
Book. 



re b 



^2)3 



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I 

THE 

AMERICAN BIOGRAPHY? 

CONTAINING 

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 



OF THE 



OFFICERS OF THE REVOJ^ftpiON, 

AND OF THE 

PRINCIPAL STATESMEN OF THAT PERIOD, 

TO WHICH ARE ADDED THE 

LIFE AND CHARACTER OF BENEDICT ARNOLD, 
AND THE NARRATIVE OF MAJOR ANDRE. 



COMPILED FROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES. 



V WHEELING; 

\ PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR F. KENYON, 

1833. 






^ 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



Numerous Biographies of the distinguished pien who acted a 
conspicuous part during the scenes of the Revolution, have been 
pubhshed at various times, and in different parts of the country. 
These have been issued various titles, such as. Biographies of 
the Signers of the Declaration of Independence ; American Mili- 
tary Biography; American Military and Political Biography, &.c. 
&c. None, however, have combined all the several departments 
embraced in the present work, which includes not only the lives 
of the distinguished military and naval officers, both native and 
foreign, whafought our battles ; but also the Biographies of many 
of those emmBRt statesmen, whose wisdom in council, and forti- 
tude in trying emergencies, contributed in a very great degree, 
under Divine Providence, to conduct our country through the 
perils and storms of the Revolution. While, therefore, we hold 
up the names of Washington, Warren, Lafayette, and their brave 
companions, to the admiration of posterity, we should never for- 
get that John Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, and their coadjutors in 
the cabinet, have equal claims upon our admiration. 

Contrasted with these brilliant names, stands the character of 
Arnold, the detestation of whose treachery should be "burnt in 
on the memory of every American, by the immortal fires of po- 
etry" and history. In this volume, the circumstances of his me- 
ditated treason, and the capture, trial, and execution of major 
Andre, are more fully detailed, than in many of the works which 
have treated of this subject. 

The introductory matter, detailing the proceedings of the pa- 
rent country, in relation to taxing the colonies, will serve as a 
useful exposition of the principles involved in the great contest, 
which resulted in the establishment of our political freedom. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION. Page. 

Summary view of the causes which led to the American Re- 
volution, 5 
PART I. 

AMERICAN MILITARY OFFICERS. 

George Washington, Esq. Commander-in-Chief of the Amer- 
ican army, 47 
Joseph Warren, Major-General in the American army, 76 
-Nathaniel Greene, Major-General in the American armv, 87 
Horatio Gates, Majoi--General in the American armjIJ HI 
Richard Montgomery, Major-General in the American^arm} , 122 
Israel Putnam, Major-General in the American army, 132 
Henry Knox, Major-General in the American army, 147 
Arthur St. Clair, Major-General in the American army, 154 
Anthony Wayne, Major-General in the American army, 160 
Philip Schuyler, Major-General in the American army, 170 
Charles Lee, Major-General in the American army, 176 
William Moultrie, Major-General in the American army, 184 
Thomas Mifflin, Major-General in the American army, 188 
John Sullivan, Major-General in the American army, 189 
Benjamin Lincoln, Major-General in the American army, 193 
Hugh Mercei*, Major-General in the American army, 200 
William Heath, Major-General m the American army, 202 
William Alexander, Major-General in the American army, 210 
James Clinton, Major-General in the American army, 212 
Thomas Conway, Major-General in the American army, 217 
Ethan Allen, Brigadier-General in the American army, 218 
John Cadwalader, Brigadier-General in the American army, 223 
George Clinton, Brigadier-General in the American army, 225 
William Davidson, Brigadier-General in the American army, 230 
Christopher Gadsden, Brigadier-Gen'l in the American army, 232 
Daniel Morgan, Brigadier-General in the American army, 236 
John Stark, Brigadier-General in the American army, 243 
Otho H. Williams, Brigadier-General in the American army, 251 
Rufus Putnam, Brigadier-General in the American army, 253 
Peleg Wadsworth, General of the Massachusetts militia, 257 
Timothy Pickering, Colonel in the American army, 263 
William Washington, Colonel in the American army, 271 
Henry Lee, Colonel in the American army, - 273 
John Laurens, Colonel in the American army, - 274 



CONTENTS. 

Seth Warner, Colonel in the American army, - 278 

Isaac Hayne, Colonel in the American army, - 286 

John Eager Howard, Colonel in the American army, 288 
William Richardson Davie, Colonel-Commandant of the state 

cavalry of North Carolina, _ _ _ 290 

Henry Dearborn, Colonel in the American army, - 294 

Joseph Reed, Adjutant-general in the American army, 299 

Peter Horry, Colonel in the American army, - 302 

John James, Major in the American army, - 303 

Evan Edwards, Major in the American army, - 305 

Nathan Hale, Captain in the American army, - 306 

Francis Marion, Colonel in the American army, - 309 

William Jasper, Sergeant in Marion's brigade, - 332 

PART n. 

JFOREIGN OFFICERS IN THE AMERICAN SERVICE. 

Gilbert Malier Lafayette, Major-General in the American 

continental army, _ _ _ _ 337 

Baron De Steuben, Major-General in the American army, 368 

Count Kosciusko, Colonel in the American army, t- 377 

Count Pulaski, - _ _ _ 388 

Baron De Kalb, - - - - 395 
PART III. 

NAVAL OFFICERS IN THE AMERICAN SERVICE. 

John Paul Jones, Commodore in the American navy, 401 

John Barry, Commodore in the American navy, - 419 

Nicholas Biddle, Commodore in the American navy, 423 

Edward Preble, Commodore in the American navy, 431 

Thomas Truxtun, Commodore in the American navy, 448 

PART IV. 

EMINENT AMERICAN STATESMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Benjamin Franklin, - - - - 453 

John Adams _____ 472 

Thomas Jefferson, _ _ _ _ 490 

Roger Sherman, - - - - 511 

Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, , - - - 521 

John Witherspoon, _ ~ _ _ _ 526 

John Hancock, _ _ _ _ 537 

Samuel Adams, _ _ ^ _ 545 

Richard Henry Lee, _ _ _ _ 554 

Daniel Boone, the first settler of Kentucky, - 561 

Alexander Hamilton, Inspector-Gen'l in the American army, 572 

Tne Life and Character of Benedict Arnold, and the circum- 

stknces of the capture, trialj and execution of Major Andre, 596 



INTRODUCTION. 



SUMMARY VIEW OF THE EVENTS WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION. 

Persitution peopled America. «God,'" says the pious Staugh- 
ton, "sifted the chaff of the three kingdoms for the grain with 
which to sow the wilds of America."" The pious pilgrims and the 
liardy emigrants however, who first planted the American conti- 
nent, and most of their successors who laid the foundation of our 
government on the basis of civil and religious liberty, have found 
a resting place in the grave. But their virtues, such as patience 
i-n days of suffering; courage and zeal in asserting and maintain- 
ing their rights; and the wisdom evinced in laying the foundation 
of our government, will be held in grateful remembrance. 

It has, indeed, been said, that the settlement of America, and 
the history of her revolution, are becoming "a trite theme." The 
i^emark is not founded in truth. Too well does the present gene- 
ration appreciate the excellence of those men, who guided the 
destinies of our country in days of bitter trial ; too well does it es- 
timate the glorious events, which have exalted these United States 
to their present elevation, ever to be weary of the pages which 
shall record the virtues of the one, and the interesting character of 
the other. 

The minuter portions of our history, and the humbler men who 
have acted a part therein, must, perhaps, pass into oblivion. But 
the more important transactions, and the more distinguished char- 
acters, instead of being lost to the remembrance, and affections 
of posterity, will be the more regarded and admired the farther 
"we roll down the tide of time." Indeed "an event of real mag- 
2 



6 IXTRODUCTION. 

nitude in human history," as a recent literary journal has well 
observed, "is never seen, in all its grandeur and importance, till 
some time after its occurrence has elapsed. In proportion as the 
memory of small men, and small things, is lost, that of the truly 
great becomes more bright. The contemporary aspect of things, 
is often confused and indistinct. The eye, vthich is placed too 
near the canvass, beholds, too distinctly, the separate touches of 
the pencil, and is perplexed with a cloud of seemingly discoi-dant 
tints. It is only at a distance, that they melt into a harmonious, 
living picture." 

Nor does it detract from the honor of the eminent personages, 
who were conspicuous in the transactions of our earlier history, 
that they foresaw not all the glorious consequences of their actions. 
Not one of our pilgrim fathers, it may be safely conjectured, had 
a distinct anticipation of the future progress of our country. Nei- 
ther Smith, Newport, nor Gosnold, who led the eiTiigrants of the 
south ; nor Carver, Brewster, Bradford, or Standish, who conduct- 
ed those of the north ; looked forward to results like those which 
are witnessed by the present generation. But is the glory of their 
enterprise thereby dim.inished? By no means; it shines with an 
intenser light. They f )resaw nothing with certainty, but hard- 
ships and sacrifices. These they deliberately and manfully en- 
countered. They went forward unassured, that even co.'nmon 
prosperity would attend their enterprise. They breasted them.- 
selves to every shock; as did the vessel which bore them, to the 
waves of the ocean. 

In a work, w^hose professed object is, to speak of men who lived 
and flourished in the days of our revolutionary struggle, we have 
little to do with the motives which induced the first settlers of our 
country to seek an asylum in what was then an unexplored 
wilderness. Nor is this the place to record the thousand sufferings 
which they endured, before the era of their landing; or their 
numberless sorrows and deprivations, whilst establishing them- 
selves in the rude land of their adoption. The heroic and chris- 
tian virtues of our fathers will occupy a conspicuous page in his- 
tory, while the world shall stand. 

The year 1607 is the era of the first settlement of the English 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

in America. During the interval between this date, and the year 
1732, thirteen colonies were established; Virginia being the first, 
and Georgia the last. The others were Massachusetts, Connec- 
ticut, New-Hampshire, Rhode-Island, New-York, New-Jersey, 
Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and the two Carolinas. 

In the settlement of these colonies, three forms of government 
were established. These w'ere severally denominated, charter, 
proprietary, and royal governments. This difference arose from 
the different circumstances Avhich attended the settlement of dif- 
ferent colonies, and the diversified views of the early emigrants. 
The charter governments were confined to New-England. The 
proprietary governments were those of Maryland, Pennsylvania, 
the Carolinas,- and the Jerseys. The two former remained such, 
until the ^^erican revolution ; the two latter became royal gov- 
ernments long before that period. In the charter governments, 
the people enjoyed the privileges and powersof self government; 
in the proprietary governments these privileges and powers were 
vested in the proprietor, but he was required to have the advice, 
assent, and approbation, of the greater part of the freemen, or 
their deputies ; in the royal governments, the governor and coun- 
cil were appointed by the crown, and the people elected represen- 
tatives to serve in the colonial legislatures. — [Pitkin.] 

The colonies, with the exception of Georgia, had all been estab- 
lished, and had attained to considerable strength, without even 
the slightest aid from the parent country. Whatever was expend- 
ed in the acquisition of territory from the Indians, proceeded from 
private resources of the European adventurers. Neither the 
crown, nor the parliament of England, made any compensation to 
the original masters of the soil ; nor did they in any way contrib- 
ute to those improvements which so soon bore testimony to the 
industry and intelligence of the planters. The settlement of the 
province of Massachusetts Bay alone cost £200,000; — an enor- 
mous sum at that period. Lord Baltimore expended £40,000, for 
his contingent, ia the establishment of his colony in Maryland. 
On that of Virginia, immense wealth was lavished; and we are 
told by Trumbull, that the first planters of Connecticut consumed 
great estates in purchasing lands from the Indians, and making 



W INTRODUCTION. 

their settlements in that province, in addition to large sums previ- 
ously expended in the procuring of their patents, and of the rights 
of pre-emption. — [ WaZ^/j.] 

It is conceded by historians of every party, that from the earli- 
est settlements in America, to the period of the revolution, the 
parent country, so far as her own unsettled state would permit, 
pursued towards those settlements a course of direct oppression. 
Without the enterprise to establish colonies herself, she was ready, 
in the very dawn of their existence, to claim them as her legitimate 
possessions, and to prescribe, in almost every minute particular, 
the policy they should pursue. Her jealousies, coeval with the 
foundation of the colonies, increased with every succeeding year; 
and led to a course of arbitrary exactions, and lordly oppressions, 
which resulted in the rupture of those ties that bound the colonies 
to the parent country. 

No sooner did the colonies, emerging from the feebleness and 
poverty of their incipient state, begin to direct their attention to 
commerce and manufactures, than they were subjected by the 
parent country to many vexatious regulations, which seemed to 
indicate, that with regard to those subjects they were expected to 
follow that line of policy, which she in her wisdom should mark 
out for them. At every indication of colonial prosperity, the com- 
plaints of the commercial and manufacturing interests in Great 
Britain were loud and clamorous, and repeated demands were 
made upon the British government, to correct the growing evil, 
and to keep the colonies in due subjection. 

"The colonists," said the complainants, "are beginning to carry 
on trade ; — they will soon be our formidable rivals : they are al- 
ready setting up manufactures ; — they will soon set up for inde- 
pendence." 

It was not easy for the colonists to see by what principle their 
removal to America should deprive them of the rights of English- 
men. It was difficult for them to comprehend the justice of restric- 
tions so materially different from those at "home ;" or why they 
might not equally with their elder brethren in England, seek the 
best markets for their products, and, like them, manufacture such 
articles as were within their power, and essential to their comfort. 



► 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

But the selfish politicians of England, and her still more selfish 
merchants and manufacturers, thought not so. A different doc- 
trine was accordingly advanced, and a different policy pursued. 
Ac<g were, therefore, early passed, restricting the trade with the 
plantations, as well as with other parts of the world, to English- 
built ships, belonging to the subjects of England, or to her planta- 
tions. Not contented with thus confining the colonial export trade 
to the parent country, parliament, in 1663, limited the import trade 
in the same manner. 

These acts, indeed, left free the trade and intercourse between 
the colonies. But even this privilege remained to them only a 
short period. In 1672, certain colonial products, transported from 
one colony to another, were subjected to duties. White sugars 
were to pay five shillings, and brown sugars one shilling and six- 
pence, per hundred ; tobacco and indigo one penny, and cotton 
wool a half-penny, per pound. 

The colonists deemed these acts highly injurious to their inter- 
est. They were deprived of the privilege of seeking the best mar- 
ket for their products, and of receiving, in exchange, the articles 
they wanted, without being charged the additional expense of a 
circuitous route through England. The acts themselves were 
considered by some as a violation of their charter rights ; and in 
Massachusetts, they were for a long time, totally disregarded. 

The other colonies viewed them in the same light. Virginia 
presented a petition for their repeal ; Rhode Island declared them 
unconstitutional, and contrary to their charter. The Carolina?, 
also, declared them not less grievous and illegal. 

The disregard of these enactments on the part of these colonies 
— a disregard which sprung from a firm conviction of their illegal 
and oppressive character — occasioned loud and clamorous com- 
plaints in England. The revenue, it was urged, would be injured ; 
and the dependence of the colonies on the parent country would, 
in time, be totally destroyed. A stronger language was, therefore, 
held towards the colonies, and stronger measures adopted, to en- 
force the existing acts of navigation. The captains of his majesty's 
frigates were instructed to seize, and bring in, offenders who 
avoided making entries in England. The naval officers were re- 
2* 



10 INTRODUCTION. 

quired to give bonds for the faithful performance of their daties; 
the custom house officers in America were clothed with extraordi- 
nary powers, and the governors, for neglect of watchfulness on 
these points, were not only to be removed from office, and render- 
ed incapable of the government of any colony, but also to forfeit 
one thousand pounds. 

A similar sensibility prevailed, on the subject of manufactures. 
For many years after their settlement, the colonists were too much 
occupied in subduing their lands to engage in manufactures. 
When, at length, they turned their attention to them, the varieties 
were few, and of a coarse and imperfect texture. But even these 
were viewed with a jealous eye. In 1699, commenced a syste- 
matic course of restrictions on; colonial manufactures, by an en- 
actment of parliament, "that no wool, yarn, or woollen manufac- 
tures, of their American plantations, should be shipped there, or 
even laden, in order to be transported thence to any place what- 
ever." 

Other acts followed,, in subsequent years, having for their ob- 
ject the suppression of manufactures in America, and the contin- 
ued dependence of the colonies on the parent country. In 1719. 
the house of commons declared, "that the erecting of manufacto- 
ries in the colonies, tended to lessen their dependence upon Great 
Britain." In 1731, the board of trade reported to the house of 
commons, "that there are more trades carried on, and manufac- 
tures set up, in the provinces on the continent of America, to the 
northward of Virginia, prejudicial to the trade and manufactures 
of Great Britain, particularly in New-England, than in any of the 
British colonies ;" and hence they suggested, "whether it might 
not be expedient," in order to keep the colonies properly dependent 
upon the parent country, and to render her manufactures o^ ser- 
viceto Great Britain, "to give these colonies some encouragement.' 

From the liOndon company of hatters loud complaints were 
made to parliament, and suitable restrictions demanded, upon the 
exportation of hats, which being manufactured in New-England, 
were exported toSpain, Portugal, and the "British West India isl- 
ands, to the serious injury of their trade. In consequence of these 
representations, the exportation of hats from the colonies to foreign 



INTRODUCTION. 11 

countries, and from one plantation to another, was prohibited ; 
and even restraints, to a certain extent, were imposed on their 
manufacture. In 1732, it was enacted, that hats should neither 
be shipped, nor even laden upon a horse, cart, or other carriagter 
with a view to transportation to any other colony, or aay place 
whatever. Nay, no hatter should employ more than two appren- 
tices at once, nor make hats, unless he had served as an appren- 
tice to the trade seven years; and, finally, that no black.ovnegra 
should be allowed to work at the business at all. 

The complaints and the claims of the manufacturers of iron 
were of an equally selfish character. The colonists might reduce 
the iron ore into pigs — they might convert it into bars — it might 
be furnished them duty free ; but they must have the profit of man- 
ufacturing it, beyond this incipient stage. Similar success await- 
ed the representations and petitions of the nianufacturers of iron. 
In the year 1750, parliament allowed the importation of pig and 
bar iron from the colonies, into London, <iuty free ; but prohibited 
the erection or continuance of any mill, or other engine, for slitting 
or rolling iron, or any plating forge to work with a tilt-hammer, 
or any furnace for making steel, in the colonies, under the penalty 
of two hundred pounds. Moreover every such mill, engine, or 
plating forge, was declared a common nuisance; and the governors 
of the colonies, on the infonnation of two witnesses, on oath, were 
directed to cause the same to be abated within thirty days, or to 
forfeit the sum of five hundred pounds. 

But if the colonists had reason to complain on account of the 
above restrictions and prohibitions,'r— as being extremely oppres- 
sive in themselves, and a plain violation of their rights; — some of 
them were equally misused with respect to their charters. 

The charter governments, it has already been observed, were 
confined to the colonies of New-England. These charters had 
been granted by the crown in different years; and under them 
were exercised the powers of civil government. 

Great difference of opinion early existed between the crown 
and the colonists, as to the nature, extent, and obligations of these 
instruments. By the crown they were viewed as constituting 
petty corporations, similar to those established in England, which 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

might be annulled or revoked at pleasure. To the colonists, on 
the other hand, they appeared as sacred and solemn compacts 
between themselves and the king; which could not be altered, 
either by the king or parliament, without a forfeiture on the part 
of the colonists. The only limitation to the legislative power con- 
ferred by the charters, was, that the laws made under their au- 
thox'ity should not be repugnant to those of England. 

Among the colonists, there prevailed no disposition to transcend 
the powers, or abuse the privileges which had been granted them. 
They, indeed, regarded the charters as irrevocable, so long as 
they suitably acknowledged their own allegiance to the crown, 
and confined themselves to the rights with which they were in- 
vested. But, at length the king seems to have repented of these 
extensive grants of political power; and measures were adopted 
again to attach the 'government of the charter colonies to the 
royal prerogative. 

Accordingly, writs were issued against several New-England 
colonies, at different times, requiring them to surrender these in- 
struments into the royal hands. To this measure the strongest 
repugnance every where prevailed. It was like a surrender of 
life. It was a blow aimed at their dearest rights — an annihila- 
tion of that peace and liberty, which had been secured to them by 
the most solemn and inviolable compact. 

With views and sentiments like these, the colonists supplicated 
the royal permission, "to remain as they were." They reminded 
his majesty of the sacred nature of their charters ; they appealed 
to the laws which they had passed, — to the institutions they had 
founded, — to the regulations they had adopted, — in the spirit of 
which, there was not to be seen any departure from the powers 
with w hich they were invested. And they therefore humbly 
claimed the privilege of exercising these powers, with an assu- 
rance of their unalterable allegiance to the English crown. 

In an address to his majesty, from the colony of Massachusetts, 
styled, "the humble supplication of the general court of the 
Massachusetts colony in New-England," the following language 
was adopted — language as honorable to the colonists, as the sen- 
timents are tender and affecting. "Let our government live, our 






IXTRODUCTIOX. 13 

patent live, our magistrates live, our laws and liberties live, our 
religious enjoyments live, so shall we all yet have further cause 
to say from our hearts, let the king live forever! — and the bles- 
sings of those ready to perish shall come upon your majesty; 
having delivered the poor that cried, and such as had none to help 
them." 

The king, however, would listen to no arguments, and would 
admit of no appeal. A strong jealousy had taken possession of 
his bi'east, and had as firmly seated itself in the hearts of his min- 
istry. The tree, planted by the colonists, fostered by their care, 
and w atered by their tears, was taking too deep root, and spread- 
ing forth its branches too broadly. Its fall was determined upon, 
and too successfully was the axe applied. 

The charters being set aside ; those of Rhode Island and Con- 
necticut being considered as surrendered, and that of Massachu- 
setts having been violently wrested from her ; the king, at that 
time James 11. appointed Sir Edmund Andros governor -general 
of New-England. In December 1G86, he arrived in Bostouj and 
published his commission. 

The administration of Andros effected no inconsiderable change 
in the condition of New-England. For sixty years tlie people had 
lived happily under constitutions and laws of their own adoption. 
Amidst the trials and sufferings which had fallen to their lot, while 
settling and subduing a wilderness, the privilege of self-govern- 
ment was one of their chief consolations. But now^ deprived ©f 
this privilege, and subjected to the arbitrary laws and cruel rapa- 
cit}'" of Andros, a deep gloom spread over the whole territory of 
New-England. 

Relief, however, was near at hand. At this important crisis in 
the affairs of the colonies, an event transpired which relieved them 
in a measure from the perplexities in which they were involved, 
and from the oppressions under which they groaned The bigot- 
ted James II. by his acts of despotism, had become justly odious 
to all the subjects of his realm. So great was the excitement of 
public indignation, that the king was compelled to flee, in dis- 
grace, from the kingdom ; and his son-in-law, William, prince of 
Orange, was invited to assume the crown. 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

The news of this event (1689) spread unusual joy throughout 
the colonies. In the height of their animation, the inhabitants 
of Boston seized Sir Edmund Andros, with fifty of his associates, 
and put them in close confijiement, until he was ordered back to 
Great Britain. Connecticut and Rhode Island immediately re- 
sumed their charters, and re-established their former government. 
Massachusetts soon after obtained a new charter, which, however, 
failed to secure to the colony many rights, which they had enjoyed 
under the provisions of the former one ; but which was finally 
accepted by a majority of the general court. Each of the colo- 
nies continued to exercise its government till the year 1775. In 
Rhode Island, the ancient charter is the only constitution at the 
present time ; and in Connecticut, the charter was continued until 
the year 1818, when a new constitution was adopted by the people. 

The grateful relief experienced by the colonies on the accession 
of William, was, however, of temporary continuance. Through 
other channels, trouble and distress were to be conveyed to them. 
From the above year (1689) to the peace of Paris 1763, the colo- 
nies, from New-Hampshire to Georgia, were engaged in almost 
unremitting hostilities with the aborigines on their borders. The 
whole western frontier was a scene of havoc and desolation. — 
During this long series of years, they were obliged to bear the 
*'unworthy aspersion,' as Dummer justly entitles it, of exciting 
these Indian wars, and of acquiring the dominion of the Indian 
territory by fraud, as well as by force. 

To these trials were added others, which proceeded from the 
parent coiuitry. Disputes were frequently arising, as heretofore, 
between the crown and the colonies, respecting the powers con- 
ferred by the charters. Claims were set up, by the king and 
council, to the right of receiving and hearing appeals from the 
colonial courts, in private suits,- and, at length, a serious and pro- 
tracted controversy arose in those colonies, whose governors were 
appointed by royal authority, from a requisition of the king that 
0. fixed and jiermancnt sdXdity should be provided for the repre- 
sentatives of the crown. This was a favorite project of the 
king, as it carried the show of authority on the part of the royal 
government, and of dependence on the pai't of the colonies ; and it 



liVTRODUCTION. 15 

was an object of no less importance to the governors themselves, 
the most of whom were sent to America to repair fortunes which 
had been ruined by extravag'ance at home. 

The disputes on this subject, in the province of Massachusetts, 
lasted thirty years. The assembly of that colony were ready to 
make grants for the support of their governors, from year to vear, 
as they had been accustomed to do, under their charter govern- 
ment: but no menaces could induce them to establish a permanent 
salary. At length, satisfied that the house would never yield, the 
crown allowed their governors to ratify temporary grants. 

Another grievance which the colonies suffered during this pe- 
riod, and of which they had reason loudly to complain, was the 
conduct of the parent country, in transporting to America those 
persons, who for their crimes had forfeited their liberty and lives 
in Great Britain. Various acts of parliament authorized this mea- 
sure ; and hence the cotmtry was becoming the asylum of the worst 
of felons. The conduct of the parent country, in thus sending the 
pestilential inmates of her prisons to the colonies, met with their 
strong and universal abhorrence. Nor was this abhorrence les- 
5;ened by the reasons assigned beyond the waters for the practice, 
viz. "that in many of his majesty's colonies and plantations, there 
was a great want of servants, who, by their labour and industry, 
might be the means of improving, and making the said colonies 
inore useful to his majesty.'''' 

To this catalogue of grievances, not imaginary, but real; not 
transient, but long continued; not local, but mostly universal; 
many others might be added, did our limits permit. But undei* 
all these oppressions, amidst obstinate and various efforts of the 
crown, to extend the royal prerogative, and to keep the colonies 
in humble dependence, they retained, in general, a warm affection 
for the parent country. They regarded the sovereign as a father, 
and themselves as children : they acknowledged their obligations 
of obedience to him, in all things which were lawful, and consis- 
tent with their natural and unalienable rights ; and they appealed 
to him in various disputes, which arose about colonial rights, lim- 
its, and jurisdiction. 



IG INTKOUUCTION. 

It was a characteristic trait in tJie colonists, to provide for their 
own defence. They had been taught to do this by the neglect of 
the parent country, from the very days of their infancy — even be- 
fore the problem was solved, whether the country should longer 
continue the domain of pagan darkness, or the empire of cultivated 
mind. They might, indeed, justly have claimed the assistance 
and protection of the land of their birth, but seldom did they urge 
their rights. On the contrary, their treasuries were often emptied, 
and tlie blood of their yeomanry shed, in furnishing assistance to 
the parent country. In her contests, and her wars, they engaged 
with all the enthusiasm of her native sons, and persevered with 
all the bravery of soldiers trained to the art of war. 

This affection for the parent country, and devotedness to her 
interests ; this promptness to assist her, though unassisted by her 
themselves ; this liberality in emptying their treasuries, and shed- 
ding their blood, were felt and cherished by the colonies^ before, 
and for years after, the peace of 1763. They continued to be 
thus cherished, and thus manifested, until exactions and oppres- 
sions "left not a hook to hang a doubt on," that they must either 
passively submit to the arbitrary impositions of a jealous and a 
rapacious parent, or rise in defence of those rights, which had 
been given to them by the God of nature, in common with his 
other childi*en. 

The peace of 1763, while it secured to Great Britain all the 
country east of the Mississippi, and annihilated the French power 
in America, restored peace to the colonies, and put an end to the 
calamities of a French and Indian war, by which they had been 
harrassed for nearly a century. The joy consequent upon an event 
so auspicious, was universal and sincere. But that joy was soon 
to be diminished by the agitation of the question, in England, as to 
the taxation of the colonies. 

After the termination of the French war, the consideration of 
the subject was renewed, and that moment seized as a favorable 
one to commence the operation of the <!T-tfim. During the M'ar, 
a heavy debt had been incurred by Great fsritain, for the benefit 
and protection, as was said, of the American colonies. It was, 
therefore, no more than an act of justice, that they should assist 
in the payment of that debt. 



INTRODUCTION. 17 

In the winter of 1764, lord Grenville, who had recently been 
elevated to the premiership, announced to the agents of the colo- 
nies, then in England, his intention of drawing a revenue from 
them ; and that, for this purpose, he should propose, in the ensuing 
session of parliament, a duty on stamps. 

This intention of the minister being coramnnicated to the colo- 
nies, the whole country immediately caught the alarm. Not only 
among private citizens, but also among public and corporate bo- 
dies, the same feeling of indignation prevailed ; the same opinion 
of the injustice and unconstitutional character of the proposed 
measure was expressed, and the same disposition to resist it ex- 
hibited. 

The house of representatives, in Massachusetts, in the following 
June, declared, "That the sole right of giving and granting the 
money of the people of that province, was vested in them, or their 
representatives ; and that the imposition of ^uties and taxes by the 
parliament of Great Britain, upon a people not represented in the 
house of commons, is absolutely irreconcilable with their rights ; 
that no man can justly take the property of another, without his 
consent; upon which original principles, the power of making laws 
for levying taxes, one of the main pillars of the British constitu- 
tion, is evidently founded." 

Petitions from several of the colonies were immediately pre- 
pared, and forwarded to their agents in England, to be presented 
at the approaching meeting of parliament, when the contemplated 
measure was to be brought forward. The language of these pe- 
titions, though respectful, was in accordance with the spirit which 
pervaded the country. They acknowledged the right of parlia- 
ment to regulate trade, but ^\•ould not for a moment admit the ex- 
istence of a right in the mother country, to impose duties for the 
purpose of a revenue. They did not claim this exemption as a 
privilege: they founded it on a basis more honourable and solid: 
it was challenged as their indefeasible right. 

The above petitions reached England in season, and were of 

fered to the acceptance and consideration of parliament: but no 

•entreaties of the agents could induce that body even to receive 

them ; on the two-fold ground, that the petitioners questioned the 

3 



18 IXTRODUCTION. 

right of parliament to pass the contemplated bill; and, moreover, 
it was an ancient standing rule of the house, 'Hhat no petition 
should be received against a money bill." In the house of com- 
mons, the bill passed, by the large majority of 250 to 50. In the 
house of lords, the vote was nearly unanimous; and on the 22d of 
March, (17G5,)it r'eceivedthe royal sanction. 

By the act thus passed, duties were imposed not only on most 
of the v/ritten instruments used in judicial and commercial pro- 
ceedings; but also upon those which were necessary in the ordi- 
nary transactions of the colonies. Deeds, indentures, pamphlets, 
newspapers, advertisements, almanacs, and even degrees confer- 
red by seminaries of learning, were among the enumerated arti- 
ticles on which a tax was laid. 

The discussions on the above bill, before its final passage, were 
unusually animated. The principle involved in it was felt to be 
important, both b)^ its Jriends and opposers ; and the measure Avas 
seen to be pregnant with consequences of the most serious nature. 
"It may be doubted," says Botta, "whether, upon any other occa- 
sion, either in times past or present, there has been displayed 
more vigor or acuteness of intellect, more love of country, or cf 
party spirit, or greater splendor of eloquence, than in these de- 
bates. Nor was the shock of opinion less violent without the 
walls of Westminster. All Europe, it may be said, and especial- 
ly the commercial countries, were attentive to the decision of this 
important question. The principal supporters of the bill were lord 
Grenville and Charles Townshend. Unfortunately for the colo- 
nies, Mr. Pitt, their constant friend, was absent; being confined to 
his bed by sickness. The principal opposers, were Gen. Conway, 
Alderman Becford,Col. Barre, Mr. Jackson, and Sir William Mer- 
edith. The two first of these opposed the measureon theground that 
parliament had no right to tax the colonies ; the others contended 
that it was not expedient. 

In the conclusion of one of his speeches on the bill, Mr Towns- 
hend exclaimed : "And now, will these Americans, planted by 
our care, nourished up by our indulgence, until they are grown to 
a degree of strength and importance, oxvA protected by our arms, 
will they grudge to contribute their mite to relieve us from the 
heavy burden we lie under?" 



JXTKODfCTIOX, 19 

The honorable member had no sooner taken his seat, than Col. 
Barre rose, and replied : "They planted by your care ! No, your 
oppression planted them in America. They fled from your ty- 
ranny, to a then uncultivated and inhospitable country, where 
they were exposed' to almost all the hardships, to which human 
nature is liable, and among others, to the cruelties of a savage 
foe; the most subtle, and I will take upon me to say, the most for- 
midabk, of any people upon the face of God's earth ; and yet 
actuated by principles of true English liberty, they met all hard- 
ships with pleasure, compared with those they suffered in their 
own country, from the hands of those who should have been their 
friends. 

"They nourished by your indulgence ! They grew by your 
neglect of them. As soon as you began to take care of them, 
that care was exercised in sending persons to rule them in one 
department and another, who were deputies of deputies to some 
members of this house, sent to prey upon them; men, whose be- 
haviour, on many occasions, has caused the blood of those sons of 
liberty to recoil within them; men promoted to the highest seats 
of justice, some, to my knowledge, were glad by going to a for- 
eign country, to escape being brought to a bar of justice in 
their own. 

"They protected by your arms ! They have nobly taken up arms 
m your defence] have exerted their valor, amidst their constant 
and laborious industr*', for the defence of a country whose fron- 
tier was drenched in blood, while its interior parts yielded all its 
little savings to your emolument. 

"And believe me, that same spirit of freedom which actuated 
that people at first, will accompany them still. But prudence for- 
bids me to explain myself further. 

"God knows, I do not, at this time, speak from party heat. How- 
ever superior to me, in general knowledge and experience, the 
respectable body of this house may be, yet I claim to know more 
of America than most of you, having seen and been conversant 
in that country. The people, I believe, are as truly loyal as any 
subjects the king has; but a people jealous of their liberties, and 
who will vindicate them, if ever they should be violated — but the 
subject is too delicate — I will say no more." 



20 INTRODUCTION. . 

For this unpremeditated appeal, pronounced with an energy 
and an eloquence fitted to the high occasion, the house was not 
prepared. For some minutes, the members remained motionless, 
as if petrified by surprise. But the opposition at length rallied. 
Their pride could not allow of retreat. The measure was again 
urged, the question was taken, and the bill adopted. 

No act of the British government could have been more impoli- 
tic; and none ever excited, in the colonies, a more universal alarm. 
It gave birth to feelings, which could never be suppressed, and 
aroused those intestine commotions in America, which, after 
kindling a civil war, and involving all Europe in its calamities, 
terminated in the total disjunction from the British empire, of one 
of its fairest portions. 

After the arrival of the news that the stamp act had been adopt- 
ed in parliament, the first public body that met was the assembly 
of Virginia. Towards the close of the session, about the last of 
May, the following resolutions were introduced into the house of 
burgesses, by Patrick Henry, a lawyer, at that time a young man, 
but highly distinguished for the strength of his intellect, and the 
power of his eloquence. 

"Resolved, that the first adventurers and settlers of this his 
majesty's colonies and dominions of Virginia, brought with them 
and transmitted to their posterity, and all others his majesty's 
subjects, since inhabiting in this his majesty's colony, all the 
privileges and immunities that have at anytime been held, enjoy- 
ed, and possessed, by the people of Great Britain. 

"Resolved, that by the two royal charters granted by king 
James I. the colonists aforesaid are declared entitled to all privi- 
leges of faithful, liege, and natural born subjects, to all intents 
and purposes, as if they had been abiding and born within the 
realms of England. 

"Resolved, that his majesty's most liege people of this his most 
ancient colony, have enjoyed the right of being thus governed 
by their own authority, in the article of taxes and internal police, 
and that the same have never been forfeited, nor any other way 
yielded up, but have been constantly recognized by the king and 
people of Great Britain. 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

'• Resolved, therefore, that the general assembly of this colony, 
together with his majesty, or his substitute, have, in their repre- 
sentative capacity, the only exclusive right and power to lay tax- 
es and impositions upon the inhabitants of the colony ; and that 
any attempt to vest such a power in any person or persons what- 
ever, other than the general assembly aforesaid, is illegal, 
unconstitutional, and unjust ; and has a manifest tendency to de- 
stroy British as well as American freedom." 

The debate on these resolutions was animated, and even violent. 
Nothing like them had ever transpired in America. They evin- 
ced a settled purpose of resistance ; and conveyed to the ministry 
of Great Britain a lesson, which had they read with unprejudiced 
minds, might have saved them the fruitless struggle of a seven 
years war. There were those, in the house of burgesses, who 
strongly opposed the resolutions ; but the bold and powerful elo- 
quence of Henry bore them down, and carried the resolutions 
through. In the heat of debate, he boldly asserted, that the king 
had acted the part of a tyrant; and alluding to the fate of other 
tyrants, he exclaimed, "Csesar had his Brutus, Charles I. his 
Cromwell, and George III." — here pausing a moment, till the cry 
o{"trea^on, treason,''^ which resounded, from several parts of the 
house, had ended — he added — "ma)" profit by their example ; if 
this be treason, make the most of it." 

Before these resolutions had reached Massachusetts, the house 
of representatives of that colony had declared the expediency of 
a congress, composed of commissioners from the several colonies, 
" to consult together on the present circumstances of the colonies; 
— the acts of parliament laying duties and taxes upon them; and 
to consider of a general and humble address to his majesty and the 
parliament for relief" 

The measure thus proposed by Massachusetts, on being com- 
municated to the several colonies, was received with cordial ap- 
probation by most of them; and on the 7th of October, 1765, 
commissioners from the colonies of Massachusetts, Rhode-Island, 
Connecticut, New- York, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, 
Maryland, and South Carolina, met at New-York, on the impor- 
tant and responsible business assigned them. 
3* 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

This congress, the first that was ever held in America, publish- 
ed, as the result of their deliberation, a declaration of the rights 
and grievances of the colonists ; and agreed upon a memorial to 
the house of lords, and a petition to the king and commons. 

The address and petition, agreed to by this congress, were at 
this time signed by the commissioners from six colonies only. 
But their proceedings were warmly approved in every quarter of 
the country; and at a subsequent date, received the sanction of 
the assemblies, not only of South Carolina, Connecticut, and New- 
York, but of those colonies which had not been represented in the 
congress. 

While the highest assemblies were bearing their official and 
solemn testimony against the oppressive and unconstitutional acts 
of the British parliament; the people, in eveiy section of the coun- 
try, and especially in the principal towns, were manifesting their 
abhorrence of those measures, in a different but not less decis- 
ive way. 

On the morning of the 14th of August, two effigies were dis- 
covered hanging on the branch of an old elm, near the south en- 
trance of Boston. One of these represented a stamp office; the 
other, Q.jack boot, out of which rose a horned head, which appeared 
to be looking round. 

The singularity of this spectacle soon attracted the notice of 
great numbers ; and before evening, the collection amounted to a 
multitude. The images were then taken down, placed upon a 
bier, and carried in procession with imposing solemnity. At a 
distance, in the rear, the multitude followed, shouting — "liberty 
and prosperity forever — no stamps !" Arriving in front of a house, 
owned b)^ one Oliver, which was supposed to be a stamp office, 
they levelled it to the ground; and proceeding to his place of resi- 
dence, they beheaded his effigy, and broke in the windows of his 
house. Oliver himself effi^cted a timely escape; but his fences, 
the furniture of his house, and its dependencies, were destroyed. 
It was midnight before the multitude dispersed. 

In the morning of the^next day, the people re-assembled, and 
were procefiding to a repetition of their excesses, but upon hear- 
ing that Oliver had sent his resignation to England, they desisted, 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

and repairing to the front of his house, they gave three cheers, 
and quietly returned to their homes. 

On the first day of November, the stamp act was to go into op- 
eration. As it drew near, the feehngs of the colonists became more 
and more intense ; less popular noise and clamor were perhaps, 
to be heard ; but a deep and settled hostility to the act had takeu 
possession of every breast. On the 5th of October, the ships which 
brought the stamps appeared in sight of Philadelphia, near Glou- 
cester Point: The vessels in the harbor immediately hoisted 
their colors half mast high ; the bells on the churches were muffled ; 
and during the rest of the day were tolled, in token of a profound 
and general mourning. 

On the 10th of September, the stamps, designed for Boston, 
arrived at that place. By order of the governor, thefy were con- 
veyed to the castle, where they could be defended by the artillery 
should occasion require. At length, the 1st of November arrived. 
The day in many places was ushered in with marks of funeral 
ceremony. Business was suspended, and shops and stores were 
closed. But at this time, not a single sheet of all the bales of 
stamps, which had been sent from England, could have been found 
in the colonies of New-England, of New-York, New-Jersey, Penn- 
sylvania, Maryland, and the two Carolinas. They had either 
been committed to the flames, had been reshipped to England, or 
were safely guarded by the opposition, into whose hands they 
had fallen. A general suspension, or rather a total cessation of 
all business which required stamped paper, was the consequence. 
The printers of newspapers only, observes an historian, contin- 
ued their occupation; alleging for excuse, that if they had done 
otherwise, the people would have given them such an admonition 
as they Httle coveted. None would receive the Gazettes coming 
from Canada, as they were printed on stamped paper. The courts 
of justice were shut; even marriages were no longer celebrated; 
and, in a word, an absolute stagnation in all* the relations of social 
life was established. — \Botta^ 

The mother country could not long remain in ignorance of the 
spirit which prevailed, and the disturbance which had been excited 
in the colonies, by the oppressive acts of parliament; and the stamp 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

act in particular. The minds of all classes in that country were 
deeply affected,- but as diiferent interests swayed, different feel- 
ings were entertained and expressed. 

The merchants, anticipating a loss on the credit given to the 
Americans, were disposed to censure the extraordinary course of 
parliament. The manufacturers were not less loud in their com- 
plaint, since, as the orders for their wares were discontinued, ruin 
stared them in the face. A deep despondency pervaded the minds 
of some; a lofty indignation took possession of others. By one 
class, the colonies were extravagantly extolled ; by another, they 
were as pointedly condemned. By some they were praised for 
their manly independence and bold decision,- by others, they were 
accused of ingratitude, turbulence and rebellion. 

Fortunately for the interests both of the colonies and Great 
Britain, about this time a change took place in the administration 
of England, by which several of the friends of America came in- 
to power. The marquis of Rockingham, one of the wealthiest 
noblemen of the kingdom, and highly esteemed for the endow- 
ments of his mind and the sincerity of his character, was appoint- 
ed first lord of the treasury, in the room of lord Grenvillej Mr. 
Dowdswell was made chancellor of the exchequer; lord Winches- 
ter took tlie place of the duke of Bedford, as president of the 
council; and the seals were given to the young duke of Grafton 
and general Conway whoso nobly defended the cause of the Amer- 
cans, on the motion in parliament to tax them. 

During the session of the parliament of 1766, the subject of the 
late disturbances in the colonies was brought forward by the new 
administration, and the expediency of repealing the odious enact- 
ments was strongly urged. Petitions, from various quarters, 
were presented, to the same effect. Many of the merchants and 
manufacturers of the kingdom were deeply affected by the new 
regulations concerning America. An immense quantity of Brit- 
ish manufactures were perishing in. the ware-houses ; while ar- 
tisans and seamen were deprived of employment and support. 

To the repeal of the stamp act, its original advocates were 
strongly opposed, and they marshalled all their strength to pre- 
vent it. In the first rank stood George Grenville, the late prime 



INTRODUCTION, 25 

minister. But after an animated debate, on the putting of the 
question, February 22d, the repeal of the stamp act was carried 
in the house by a majority of 265 to 167. The vote in the house 
of peers was 155 to 61 . On the 19th of March, the act of repeal 
received the royal assent. 

Thus was put at rest, for a time, a question which had deeply 
agitated not only the colonies of America, but England itself; and 
had excited much attention throughout continental Europe. But 
it is more than probable, that even at this time the repealing act 
Avould not have passed, had it not been accompanied by a de- 
claratory act,- that the parliament had the right to make laws 
and statutes to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever. 

The joy produced throughout England at this result, was 
greater than could have been anticipated, and no demonstrations 
were omitted which could testify the public sense of the kindness 
of the king and the wisdom of the parliament. The flags of the 
C'hips were spread in token of felicitation; a general illumination 
of the city of London was made; salutes were fired; and bonfires 
kindled in every quarter. 

But it was in America that a still higher joy prevailed, and 
still greater demonstrations of that joy were made. In the house 
of representatives of Massachusets, a vote of gratitude to the 
king, and of thanks to Mr. Pitt, the duke of Grafton, and otlters, 
was passed. By the house of burgesses in Virginia, it was re- 
solved to erect a statue in honor of the king, and an obelisk in 
honor of all those,, whether of the house of peers or of commons, 
who had distinguished themselves in favor of the rights of the 
colonies.. 

In the midst of this joy, the declaratory act, above mentioned,, 
appears to have been little regarded. The extent and inadmissi- 
ble character of its principles for a time remained unscrutinised. 
It was considered as appended to the act of repeal,. to soften the 
prejudices of the opposition, and to save national honor from the 
imputation of being too greatly tarnished. But, in reality, it was 
designed as the recognition of a principle which the British poli- 
ticians were unwilling to relinquish, and which they might in 
time have occasion to apply. 



28 INTRODUCTIOX, 

It is not, moreover, to be concealed, that universal and sincere 
as was the joy of the Americans, consequent on the repeal of 
the stamp act; the same cordiality was never felt by the colonies, 
as before the late disturbances. A strong disgust — a deep re- 
sentment, had fixed itself in the hearts of many; and a secret wish 
began to be felt, that the yoke was entirely removed. Perhaps, 
even at this early day, the hope was indulged, that the time 
would arrive, when this wish would become a reality. 

In July, 1766, the administration of the marquis of Rocking- 
ham was dissolved, and ,i new one formed, under the direction 
of Mr. Pitt. Unfortunately it was composed of men of different 
political principles, and attached to different parties. The duke 
of Grafton was placed at the head of the treasury; lord Shelburne 
was joined with general Conway as one of the secretaries of 
st-ate; Charles Townshend was made chancellor of the exchequer; 
Camden, lord chancellor; Pitt, now created earl of Chatham, 
had the privy seal, and lord North and George Cooke were joint 
pay-masters. 

If the prejudices of many in the colonies were not yet done 
away, much more was this the fact with the ex-minister Gren- 
ville, and his adherents in Englund. Disappointed as to the 
popularity of his administration, and remembering as one cause 
of it, his measures against America, he was ready to call into 
view, on every occasion, her obstinacy and ingratitude, and to 
enter anew up'on elTortstotax the colonies. 

To him, therefore, is attributed the plan which under the last 
formed administration, M-as brought forward in the parliament ot 
1767, to impose taxes on the colonies. The articles enumerated 
in the bill, upon which duties were laid, were glass, paper, paste- 
board, white and red lead, painter's colors, and tea. 

Mr. Pitt, during the discussion of this bill, was confined by 
indisposition, and hence, unable to raise his voice against it.— 
Without much opposition, it passed both houses, and on the 29th 
of June, received the royal assent. At the same time were passed 
two other acts; the one establishing a new board of custom-house 
officers in America ; and the other restraining the legislature of the 
jirovince of Ncfvv-York from passing any act whatever, until they 
sliould furnish the king's troops with several required articles. 



INTRODUCTIOX, 27 

These three acts reached America at the same time, and attain 
excited universal alarm. The first and second were pailicularlv 
odifjus. The new duties, it was perceived, were only a new mode 
of drawing money from the colonies, and the same strono- opposi- 
tion to the measure was exhibited, which had prevailed against 
the stamp act. Several of the colonies, through their colonial 
assemblies, expressed their "just abhorrence of these enactments, 
and their determination never to submit to them. 

3oon after the establishment of the new board of custom-house 
ofiicers at Boston, under the above act, a fit occasion presented 
itself for an expression of the public indignation. This was the 
arrival at that port, in May, 1768, of the sloop Liberty, belonging 
to Mr. Hancock, and laden with wines from Madeira. 

During the night, the most of her cargo was unladen, and put 
into stores: on the following day the sloop was entered at the cus- 
tom house, with a kw pipes only. A discovery being made of 
these facts by the custom house officers, the vessel was seized, 
and by their order removed along side of the Romney, a ship of 
war, then in the harbor. 

The conduct of the custom-house officers in this transaction 
roused the indignant feelings of the Bostonians, who unwarrant- 
ably attacked the houses oT the officers, and even assaulted their 
persons. No prosecutions, however, could be sustained, from the 
excited state of public feeling. 

Finding themselves no longer safe in the town, the officers pru- 
dently sought protection on board the Romney, and subsequently 
retired to Castle Williams. 

The public excitement was soon after increased by the arrival 
in the harbor of two regiments of troops, under the command of 
colonel Dalrymple. These were designed to assist the civil magis- 
trates in the preservation of peace, and the custom-house officers 
in the execution of their functions. Bo'h of these regiments were 
encamped within the town — the one on the commons, the other in 
the market hall and state house. 

During the session of parliament in 1770, the Duke of Grafton, 
first lord of the treasury, resigned, and was succeeded in that office 
by the afterwards celebrated lord North. In March, this latter 



,28 INTRODUCTION. 

gentleman introduced a bill abolishing the duties imposed by the 
act of 1767, on all the articles except tea. This partial suspension 
of the duties served to soften the feelings of the Americans in a 
degree; but the exception in relation to tea, it was quite apparent, 
was designed as a salvo to the national honor, and as an evidence 
which the British ministry were unwilling to relinquish, of the 
right of parliament to tax the colonies. 

The above relaxation in respect to certain duties was, however, 
unaccompanied by any other indications of a more kindly feeling 
towards the colonies. The troops were still continued in Boston, 
and the acts of trade enforced with singular strictness. At length, 
on the evening of the 5th of March, 1770, in a quarrel between a 
party of soldiers and citizens, eleven of the latter were killed or 
wounded, by a guard, under command of a captain Preston. 

The news of this rencontre was spread in every direction over 
the city — the bells were rung, the alarm of "fire" was given, the 
drums were beat, and the citizens every where called to arms. 
Thousands soon assembled, and demanded the removal of the 
troops from the town. With the assurance that the affair should 
be settled to their satisfaction in the morning, they were induced 
to retire. When the morning came, however, Hutchinson, the 
lieutenant-governor, for a long time tefused to order the removal 
of the troops, and was only driven to this measure, by evidence 
too strong to be doubted, that his own personal safety depended 
upon it. 

The men who were killed, were regarded as martyrs in the 
cause of liberty; and at their interment no mark of public sym- 
pathy or appropriate funeral ceremony was omitted. The anni- 
versary of this tragical event, which was called "the Boston 
massacre," was long observed with great solemnity, and gave 
occasion to warm and patriotic addresses, well adapted to excite 
a revolutionary spirit. 

Captain Preston and his guard were arraigned before a judi- 
cial tribunal; but for the honor of the colony they were all acquit- 
ted, except two, who were found guilty of man-slaughter. , For 
this acquittal, the prisoners, as well as the colony, were indebted 
to the independent zeal and powerful eloquence of John Adams 



Ii\TKODUCTION. 29 

and Josiah Quincy, jun. than whom none were warmer friends 
to the colony, or had acted a more conspicuous part against the 
imperious demands of the British ministry. Odious to the com- 
munity as the prisoners were, these honest and intrepid champi- 
ons appeared in their defence, and proved to the world, that while 
Americans could resist the usurpations of a tyrannical ministry, 
they could also stand forth, when justice required, for the pro- 
tection and defence of their irresponsible servants. 

During these transactions in America, a plan was devising by 
ihe British ministry, to introduce tea into the colonies. The 
duty on this article, as already noticed, had been retained, for 
the purpose of maintaining the supremacy of parliament, and its 
right to impose taxes. Little of the article, however, had been 
aaiported into the country from Great Britain ; the people having 
firmly resolved not to submit to the payment of the duty. In 
consequence of a strict adherence to this resolution, the teas of 
the East India company had accumulated in their warehouses; 
and legislative aid became necessary to relieve them of their 
embarrassments. 

In 1773, the minister introduced a bill into parliament, allow- 
rag the company to export their teas to America, with a dravr- 
back of all the duties paid in England. By this regulation, tea 
would in fact, become cheaper in America than in Great Britain, 
2nd it was expected this consideration would induce the Ameri- 
cans to pay the small duty upon it. 

On the passage of this bill, the company made a shipment of 
large quantities of tea to Charleston, Philadelphia, New-York, 
and Boston. Before its arrival, the resolution had been formed 
by the inhabitants of those places, that, if possible, it should not 
even be landed. That cargo destined for Charleston was, indeed, 
landed and stored; but was not permitted to be offered for sale. 
The vessels which brought tea to Philadelphia and New- York, 
were compelled to return to England with their cargoes, without 
even having made an entry at the custom house. 

It was designed by the leading patriots of Boston to make a 
similar disposition of the cargoes which were expected at that 
place ; but on its arrival, the consignees were found to be the re- 
4 



30 INTRODUCTION. 

lations, or friends, of the governor, and they could not be induced 
to resign their trust. Several town meetings were held on the 
subject, and spirited resolutions passed, that no considerations 
would induce the inhabitants to permit the landing of the tea. 
Orders were at the same time given to the captains to obtain 
clearances at the custom-house, without the usual entries, but 
this the collector pertinaciously refused. 

It was in this state of things, that the citizens of Boston again 
assembled, to determine what measures to adopt. During the 
discussions had on the posture of affairs, and while a captain of a 
vessel was gone to wait upon the governor, for the last time, to 
request a passport, Josiah Quincy, jun. rose., and addressed the 
assembly in the following eloquent style: "It is not the spirit 
that vapors within these walls, that must stand us in stead.. The 
exertions of this day will call forth events, which will make a 
very different spirit necessary for our salvation. Look to the end. 
Whoever supposes that shouts and hosannas will terminate the 
trials of the day, entertains a childish fancy. We must be grossly 
ignorant of the importance and value of the prize for which we 
contend,- we must be equally ignorant of the powers of those who 
have combined against us; we must be ])lind to that malice, in- 
veteracy and insatiable revenge, which actuate our enemies, 
public and private, abroad and in our bosoms, to hope we 
shall end this controversy without the sharpest conflicts ; to^flat- 
ter ourselves, that popular resolves,' popular harangues, popu- 
lar acclamations, and popular vapor, will vanquish our fears. 
Let us consider the issue. Let us look to the end. Lotus weigh 
and consider, before we advance to those measures which must 
bring on the most trying and terrible struggle this country ever 
saw. 

The captain of the vessel at length returned, to say that the 
governor refused the requested passport. The meeting was 
immediately dissolved. A secret plan had been formed to min- 
gle the tea with the waters of the ocean. Three different parties 
soon after sallied out, in the costume of Mohawk Indians, and 
precipitately made their way to the wharves. 



INTRODUCTION. 31 

At the same time, the citizens were seen in crowds directing 
their course to the same place, to become spectators of a scene as 
novel as the enterprise was bold. Without noise, without the 
tumult usual on such occasions, the tea was taken from the ves- 
sel, by the conspirators, and expeditiously offered as an oblation 
" to the watery god." 

Nothing could exceed the surprise of the British ministry, on 
learning the issue of their plan to introduce tea into the colonies. 
Their indignation was particularly severe against the inhabitants 
of Boston, for their "violent and outrageous conduct." In the 
following March, 1774, the whole affair was presented to parlia 
ment by lord North, and a determination was formed to punish 
both the citizens of Boston and the inhabitants of the colony. 

Accordingly, a bill was soon introduced into the house of com- 
mons, usually called the '■^Boston port hill,'''' which prohibited the 
landing or shipping of any goods at that port, after the first of 
June following. By a second act, which followed, the charter 
of the colony was so altered, as to make the appointment of the 
council, justices, judges, sheriffs, and even jurors, dependent upon 
the king or his agent; and restraining all town meetings, except 
the annual meeting, without leave of the governor in writing, 
with a statement of the special business of the meeting. To these 
enactments a third was added, authorising the governor, with the 
advice of the council, to send any person for trial to any other 
colony, or to Great Britain, who should be informed against, or 
indicted for any act done in violation of the laws of the revenue. 

On the arrival of the Boston port bill, which was brought over 
by a new governor, general Gage, the citizens of Boston, in an 
assembl}'^ which was convened to consider the subject, declared, 
"that the impolicy, injustice, inhumanity and cruelty of the act, 
exceeded all their powers of expression; and, therefore," said 
they, "we leave it to the consciences of others, and appeal to God 
and the world." — At the same time they adopted the following 
resolution : "That if the other colonies came into a joint resolu- 
tion to stop all importations from and exportations to Great Bri- 
tain, and every part of the West Indies, till the act be repealed, 
the same would prove the salvation of North America and her 
liberties." 



32 INTRODUCTIOiV. 

Arrangements having been made for the meeeting of the se- 
cond continental congress, on the 6lh of September, 1774, that 
body assembled at Philadelphia. All the colonies were repre- 
sented, except Georgia. Peyton Randolph, a delegate from Vir- 
ginia, was elected president, and Charles Thompson, a citizen of 
Philadelphia, was chosen secretary. 

The attention of this celebrated congress was at an eai-ly date 
turned towards the province of Massachusetts, and the city of 
Boston; and the following resolutions were adopted, expressive of 
the sympathy they felt for that colony, in its distress, and the 
high sense which the congress entertained of the wisdom and 
ibrtitude which the colony exhibited. "This assembly deeply 
feels the sufferings of their countrymen in Massachusetts Bay, 
under the operation of the late unjust, cruel, and oppressive acts 
of the British parliament ; at the same time, they most thorouglily 
approve the wisdom and fortitude with which opposition to these 
wicked ministerial measures has hithe to been conducted; and 
they earnestly recommend to their brethren a perseverance in 
the same firm and temperate conduct, trusting that the effect of 
the united efforts of North America, in their behalf, will carry 
such conviction to the British nation, of the unwise, unjust, and 
ruinous policy of the present administration, as quickly to intro- 
duce better men and wiser measures." 

Congress further addressed a letter to general Gage, earnestly 
praying him to put a stop to the hostile preparations which he had 
commenced, especially the fortifications around Boston, as the 
surest means of maintaining public tranquility in that quarter, 
and preventing the horrors of a civil war. At the same time, 
they urged upon the citizens of that town all the forbearance with- 
in their power; that they should "conduct themselves peaceably 
towards his excellency, general Gage, and his majesty's troops 
stationed in Boston, as far as could possibly be consistent with the 
immediate safety and security of the town." 

It was also deemed of importance to adopt measures to stop 
commercial intercourse with Great Britain. An agreement was, 
therefore, entered into, to suspend all importation of merchandise 
from Great Britain and its dependencies, from the 1st of De- 



INTRODUCTION. 33 

cember, 1774; and, unless the wrongs of which the Americans 
complained should be redressed, to suspend in like manner all 
expoi-tation from the 10th of September, 1775, with the single 
exception of rice. 

At the same time it was urged upon the colonies to adopt a 
system of rigid economy ; to encourage industry, and to promote 
agriculture, arts and manufactures, and especially the manufac- 
ture of wool. 

Having attended to these important concerns, congress closed 
their session on the 26th of October, after adopting addresses to 
the people of Great Britain, to the king, and to the French inhabi- 
tants of Canada. 

The congress which then terminated its session, has justly 
been celebrated from that time to the present, and its celebrity 
will continue while wisdom finds admirers and patriotism is re- 
garded with veneration. The tone and temper of their various 
resolutions, the style of their addresses, and the composition of the 
several public papers, contributed, in every particular, to excite 
the admiration of the world. Born and educated in the wilds 
of a new world, unpractised in the arts of polity, most of them 
unexperienced in the arduous duties of legislation; differing in 
religion, manners, customs, and habits, as they did in their views 
of the nature of their connexion with Great Britain; — that such 
"an assembly, so constituted, should display so much wisdom, sa- 
gacity, foresight, and knowledge of the world ; such skill in argu- 
ment; such force of reasoning; such firmness and soundness of 
judgment; so profound an acquaintance with the rights of men: 
such genuine patriotism; and above all, such unexampled union 
of opinion, was indeed a political phenomenon to which history 
has furnished no parallel. — [Allen.] Both at home and abroad, 
they were spoken of in terms of the highest admiration. Abroad, 
the earl of Chatham, in one of his brilliant speeches, remarked 
of them : — "History, my lords, has been my favorite'study, and 
in the celebrated writings of antiquity have I often admired the 
patriotism of Greece and Rome ; but, my lords, I must declare and 
avow, that in the master tales of the world, 1 know not the peo- 
ple, or the senate, who, in such a complication of difficult circum- 
4* 



34 INTRODUCTIOX. 

stances, can stand in preference to the delegates of America 
assembled in general congress at Philadelphia." At home, they 
were celebrated by a native and popular bard in an equally 
elevated strain : 

Now meet the fathers of this western clime; 

Nor names more noble graced the rolls of fame, 
When Spartan firmness braved the wrecks of time, 
. Or Rome's bold virtues fann'd the heroic fame. 

Not deeper thought the immortal sage inspired, 
On Solon''s' lips when Grecian senates hung; 

Nor manlier eloquence the bosom fired, 

When genius thundered from the Athenian tongue.''^ 

While this congress were in session, nearly all the colonies 
had taken measures to call provincial assemblies, for the purpose 
of better securing their ancient rights of government. \n Massa- 
chusetts, the people had determined to hold a provincial congress 
on the 15th of October, which induced general Gage, with a view 
to prevent the intended meeting, to convoke the general court of 
the province of Salem, on the 5th of the same month. Before 
the arrival of this latter day, however, he issued his piX)clamation^ 
forbidding that assembly. The members, nevertheless, conven- 
ed on the appointed day, and adjourned to Concord, where, after 
elevating John Hancock for their president, they further adjourned 
to meet at Cambridge, on the 17th instant. At the latter place, 
they proceeded to exercise the powers of goveraraent, and to 
take the necessary measures for placing the province in a state 
of defence. They appointed a committee of safety, and a com- 
mittee of supplies. One fourth of the militia were ordered to be 
enlisted as minute men, to be frequently drilled, and held in readi- 
ness for service at a minute's warning. 

In other colonies also, before the close of the year, the note of 
preparation was heard. The horizon every day became more 
lowering; and as its darkness thickened, the activity and vigilance 
of the colonists increased. 

The British parliament met on the 29th of November. The 
moderation evinced by the congress at Philadelphia had encour- 
aged the mass of the American people to hope, that on the meet- 



INTRODUCTIOX. 35 

ing of that body, conciliatory measures would be adopted, so as to 
restore peace and harmony between the two countries. Similar 
sentiments were entertained by the friends of America, in Eng- 
land. They saw nothing in the proceedings of the American 
congress, in their resolutions, manifestoes, or addresses, to which 
an Englishman, proud of his birthright, could justly object. It 
now remained with the British government to adopt a plan of re- 
conciliation, or to lose the affections of the colonies forever. 

The tone of his majesty's speech on the opening of the session, 
was unexpectedly lofty, and gave little encouragement to the 
hopes of reconciliation. After alluding to the spirit of disobedi- 
ence which was abroad in his American colonies, and to the da- 
ring resistance to the law which characterised the people of Mas- 
sachusetts, he informed parliament of his firm determmation to 
resist every attempt to impair the supreme authority of parlia- 
ment, throughout the dominions of the crown. 

To the mind of lord Chatham, no object, at this time, seemed 
more important, than the restoration of peace between the two 
countries. The period had arrived, when a reconciliation must 
take place, if ever such an event could be effected. Hence, on 
the assembling of parliament, afler the usual recess, January 20th, 
1775, when the minister had laid the papers relating to America 
before the house, lord Chatham rose, and moved, "that an humble 
address be presented to his majesty, to direct the removal of his 
majesty's troops from Boston, in order to open the way towards a 
settlement of the dangerous troubles in America." 

This motion of lord Chatham, offered not less from a regard to 
the welfare of England than from a conviction of her impolitic 
and cruel oppression of the colonists, — and supported by all the 
eloquence of which that distinguished orator was master, was, 
nevertheless, rejected by a large majority. Although thus de- 
feated, he was still determined, if possible, to save his country 
from the evils vvhich his prophetic glance saw in certain prospect, 
unless they should be timely averted. Hence, shortly afterwards, 
he introduced into parliament his conciliatory bill. While this 
bill maintained the dependence of the colonies upon the imperial 
crown, and the right of parliament to make laws to bind them in 



36 INTRODUCTION. 

all cases, touching the general interests of the British empire^ it 
declared that that body had no right to tax the colonies without 
their consent. To such a proposition the ministry were not pre- 
pared to listen. They were determined to admit no bill, which 
had for its object the relinquishment of any of their favorite doc- 
trines, or which, by implication, should impeach the wisdom or 
justice of the course they had pursued. Nay, they had now form- 
ed their plan, and were prepared to announce it. Coercion was 
to be their motto, until in the spirit of submission, America should 
lay herself down at their feet. 

In accordance with the above declaration, a bill was soon after 
passed by the parliament, restricting the trade of the colonies of 
'Massachusetts, Connecticut, New-Hampshire, and Rhode-Island, 
to Great Britain, Ireland, and the West Indies, and prohibiting 
their carrying' on any fisheries on the banks of Newfoundland 
and other places, for a limited time. The same restrictions were 
soon extended to all the colonies, represented in the congress at 
Philadelphia, with the exception of New-York and North Carolina. 
By these restrictions, it was thought to starve the colonies into 
obedience and submission, from a mistaken apprehension that the 
people were dependent upon \he fisheries for their support. 

It was a general understanding among the colonists, that hos- 
tilities should not be commenced by them. It was, indeed, appa- 
rent, that the day of blood was not far distant, but that blood was to 
be first shed by the hands of the English. In the mean time, they 
were not inactive in the work of preparation. The munitions of 
war were collected and stored at different points, as necessity 
and safety seemed to require. Among the places of deposit in 
Massachusetts, were Worcester and Concord, and thither consid- 
erable stores of arms and provisions had been conveyed. 

In the mean time, the vigilance of general Gage was not abated. 
Excited by the loyalists, who had persuaded him that he would 
find no resistance from the cowardice of the patriots, he resolved 
to send a few companies to Concord, in a secret manner, to seize 
the military stores deposited there ; and either to transport them to 
Boston, or to destroy them. Accordingly, on the evening of the 
18th of April, 1775, a detachment moved from Boston for this pur- 



INTRODUCTION. 37 

pose, and the next day occurred the memorable battle of Lexing- 
ton, in which the British were tlie aggressors, by first foinT on 
(he militia collected at that place. 

The details of this opening scene of the revolutionary war are 
too well known to require a recital in thi.s place. Repulsed, 
harrassed, and fatigued, the British with no inconsiderable loss, 
returned to Boston, after having accomplished their object. 

The provincial congress of Massachusetts was, at this time, in 
session at Watertown, ten miles distant from Boston. They in> 
mediately resolved that a levy of thirteen thousand men should 
I c made. At the same time, the treasurer was directed to bor- 
row £ 100,000, for the use of the province,- and they declared 
the citizens were absolved from all obligations of obedience to 
governor Gage. As the news of the battle of Lexington spread 
round the country, a universal ardor inflamed the minds of the 
inhabitants; and shortly after were assembled, in the neighbor- 
hood of Boston, thirty thousand men, readvj'shculd occasion re- 
quire, to do justice to themselves and their country. 

In this critical state of public affairs, congress again assembled 
at Philadelphia, on the 10th of May. An official account of the 
late aggressions of his majesty's troops in Massachusetts, was soon 
after laid before them; upon which it was unanimously resolved 
to place the colonies in a state of defence.' To the colony of New- 
York, which had solicited the advice and direction of congress, la 
anticipation of the speedy arrival of foreign troops, they recom- 
mended a course of action entirely on the defensive. They were, 
however, advised to move all military stores, and to pro;vkle a 
place of retreat for their women and children; to hold themsehes 
in readiness for the protection of the city; and, in the event of 
hostilities, to meet the enemy with promptness and decision. 

To some of the members of congress, it appeared desirable to 
make yet another attempt at reconciliation with the British gov- 
ernment. Justice, indeed, required no such advance ; and by many 
the measure was considered only as a work of supererrogation. 
They were willing, however, while raising the sword with one 
hand, to extend the olive branch with the other; and, though driv- 
en to the necessity of forcibly vindicating their rights, they were 



38 INTRODUCTION. 

stiUdisposed to secure them, if possible, by a firm remonstrance. 
Yielding, therefore, to the pacific wishes of several members, they 
prepared an address to the king, by way of a solemn appeal, and 
a second address to the people of Great Britain. 

Towards the king, they yet used the language of loyalty and 
affection; and assured him, notwithstanding the injuries they had 
sustained, and the grievous oppressions under which they were 
suffering, they still wished for peace ; and if redressed in respect 
to their wrongs, and secured in the just rights of subjects, they 
would manifest towards him all the affection and devotion which a 
sovreign could require. 

In their address to the inhabitants of Great Britain, after recap- 
itulating former injuries, and stating more recent acts of hostility, 
they ask: "Can the descendants of Britain tamely submit tothis? 
No, we never will; while we revere the memory of our gallant 
and virtuous ancestors, we never can surrender those glorious 
privileges for which they fought^ bled, and' conquered.- 

"Admit that your fleets and armies can destroy our towns,. and 
ravage our coasts ; these are inconsiderable objects, things of no 
moment to men whose bosoms glow with the ardor of liberty. 
We can retire beyond the reach of your navy- and without any 
sensible diminution of the necessaries of life, enjoy a luxury 
which, from that period,' you will want — the luxury of being free." 
They again repel the charge of aiming at independence: 

"Our enemies," say they, "charge us with sedition. In what 
does it consist? In our refusal to submit to unwarrantable acts of 
injustice and cruelty? If so, show us a period in your history in 
which you have not been equally seditious. 

"We are accused of aiming at independence ; but haw is this 
accusation supported? By the allegations of your ministers, not 
by our actions. Abused, insulted, and contemned, what steps 
have we pursued to obtaiji redress? We have carried our duti- 
ful petitions to the throne. We have applied to your justice for 
relief. We have retrenched our luxury, and withheld our trade. 
"The advantages of our commerce were designed as a com- 
pensation for your protection : when you ceased to protect, for 
what were we to compensate? 



INTRODUCTION. 39 

"What has been the success of our endeavors ? The clemency 
of our sovereign is unhappily diverted ; our petitions are treated 
with indignity; our prayers answered by insults. Our application 
to you remains unnoticed, and leaves us the melancholy appre- 
hension of your wanting either the will, or the power, to assist us." 
After reminding them, that the loss of liberty in America 
would only be a prelude to its loss in Great Britain, they con- 
clude : "A cloud hangs over your head and ours : ere this reaches 
you, it may probably burst upon us. Let us then, (before the re- 
membrance of former kindness is obliterated,) once more repeat 
those appellations which are ever grateful to our ears ; let us 
enti-eat heaven to avert our ruin, and the destruction that threat- 
ens our friends, brethren, and countrymen, on the other side of 
the Atlantic." 

Having thus done all which the most scrupulous conscience 
could demand, congress proceeded to adopt measures to place the 
country in a proper attitude of defence, by organizing an army, 
and appointing the necessary military officers. On the 15th of 
June, George Washington, by the united voice of congress, was 
appointed commander-in-chief of the army then raised, or to be 
raised, for the defence of American liberty. 

Washington was, at that time, a member of congress, and in a 
measure prepared to decide on the important question of accept- 
ance. On the day following, he appeared in the house, and, 
standing in his place, said, that he thanked congress for the honor 
they had conferred upon him; but that he felt great distress, 
from a consciousness that his abilities and military experience 
were not equal to the extensive and important trust: "however, 
as the congress desire it, I will enter upon the momentous duty, 
and exert every power I possess in their service, and for the sup- 
port of the glorious cause. I beg they will accept my most cordial 
thanks for this distuiguished testimony of their approbation. 

"But lest some unlucky event should happen, unfavorable to 

my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman 

in the room, that I this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, I 

do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with. 

"As to pay, sir, I beg leave to assure the congress, that as no 



«*t 



40 INTRODUCTION. 

pecuniary consideration could have tempted me to accept this 
arduous employment, at the expense of my domestic ease and 
happiness, I do not wish to make any profit from it. I will keep 
an exact account of my expenses. These, I doubt not, they wiil 
discharge, and that is all I desire." 

During the winter of 1776, the subject of a Declaration of 
Independence, occupied the attention of many men in all parts 
of the country. The ablest pens were also employed on this 
momentous subject. The propriety and necessity of the measure 
was enforced in the numerous gazettes, and in pamphlets. Among 
the latter, "Common Sense," from the popular pen of Thomas 
Paine, produced a wonderful effect in the different colonies in 
favor of independence. Influential individuals urged it as a step 
absolutely necessary to preserve the rights and liberties of Amer- 
ica, and effectually secure her happiness and prosperity. 

In the ensuing spring, several of the colonies, by means of their 
assemblies, expressed their sentiments in favor of independence 
and instructed their delegates in the general congress to propose 
to that respectable body, to declare the united colonies free and 
independent states. 

On the 7th of June, Richard Henry Lee, one of the delegates 
from Virginia, brought the great question of independence before 
the house, by submitting the following resolution : "That these 
united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and indepen- 
dent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the Bril- 
ish crown, and that all political connexion between them and the 
state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." 

This resolution was postponed until the next da}', when it was 
debated in committee of the whole. On the 10th, it was adopted 
by a bare majority of the colonies. To give time for greater una- 
nimity, the resolution was postponed in the house until the first of 
July. In the mean time, a committee, consisting of Mr. Jefferson, 
John Adams, Dr. Franklin, Mr. Sherman, and R. R. Livingston, 
was appointed to prepare a declaration of independence. The 
committee thus appointed, selected Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson 
as a sub-committee. The draft made by Mr, Jefferson, was the 
one reported to congress. It was oiscussed on the second and 



INTRODUCTION. 41 

third and fourth days of the month, in committee of the whole ; 
and on the last of those days, being reported from that committee, 
it received the final approbation and sanction of congress. It was 
ordered, at the same time, that copies be sent to the several states, 
and that it be proclaimed at the head of the army. The declara- 
tion thus published, did not bear the names of the members, for as 
yet it had not been signed by them. It was authenticated, like 
other papers of the congress, by the signatures of the president 
and secretary. On the. 19th of July, as appears by the secret 
journal, cougress '•'■Resolved, That the declaration, passed on the 
fourth, be fairly engrossed on parchment, with the title and style 
of 'The unanimous declaration of the thirteen United States of 
America,' and that the same, when ehgrossed, be signed by every 
member of congress." And on the second day of August follow- 
ing, the declaration, being engrossed and compared at the table, 
was signed by the members. 

The declaration thus adopted, and which gave birth to a new 
empire, was as follows : 

"When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary 
for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connect- 
ed them with another, and to assume, among the powers of the 
earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature 
and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect for the opinions 
rf mankind, requires that they should declare the causes which 
impel them ta the separation. 

"We hold these truths to be self-evident : — That all men are 
Created equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator with cer- 
tain unalienable rights ; that among these are life, liberty, and the 
pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments 
are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the 
consent of the governed: that whenever any form of government 
becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to 
alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its 
foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such 
form, as to them shal) seem most likely to effect their safety and 
happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments long 
established should not be changed for light and transient causes ; 

5 



42 l^THODUCTION. 

and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are 
more disposed to suffer while evils are sufferable, than to right 
themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. 
But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing inva- 
riably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under 
absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off 
such government, and to provide new guards for their future se- 
curity. Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies ; 
and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their 
former systems of government. The history of the present king 
of Great Britain, is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, 
all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute ty- 
ranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted 
to a candid world. 

"He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome and 
necessary for the public good. 

"He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate 
and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till 
his assent should be obtained ; and when so suspended, he has 
utterly neglected to attend to them. He has refused to pass other 
law? for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless 
those people would relinquish the right of representation in the 
legislature — a right inestimable to them, and formidable to ty- 
rants only. 

"He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual. 
\mcomfortable, and distant from the repository of their public 
records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into a compliance 
with his measures. 

"He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for oppos- 
ing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people. 
"He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, to 
cause others to be elected ; whereby the legislative powers, inca- 
pable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large, for 
their exercise, the state remaining, in the mean time, exposed to 
all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within. 
"He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states ; 
for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreign; 



INTRODUCTION. 43 

ers ; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, 
and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands. 

"He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing 
his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. 

"He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the ten- 
ure of their offices, and the amount and pefyment of their salaries. 
"He has erected a multitude of new offices; and sent hither 
swarms of officers, to harrass our people and eat out their substance. 
"He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, 
without the consent of our legislatures. 

"He has affected to render the military independent of, and 
superior to, the civil power. 

"He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction 
foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws ; 
giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation : 
"For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us: 
"For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment for 
any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these 
states ; 

"For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world : 
"For imposing taxes on us without our consent : 
"For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial 
by jury. 

"For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pretended 
offences : 

"For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neigh- 
boring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, 
and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at once an exam- 
ple and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into 
these colonies: 

"For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable 
laws, and altering, fundamentally, the forms of our governments : 
"For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring them- 
selves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases what- 
soever. 

"He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of 
his protection, and waging war against us. 



44 INTRODUCTION. 

"He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our 
towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. 

"He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign merce- 
naries to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, 
already begun, with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy, scarce- 
ly parallelled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy 
the head of a civilized nation. 

"He has constrained our fellow-cititizens, taken captive on the 
high seas, to bear arms against their country, to become the ex- 
ecutioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by 
their hands. 

"He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has 
endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the mer- 
ciless Indian savages, Vi'hose known rule of warfare is an undis- 
tinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions. 

"In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for re- 
dress in the most humble terms: our repeated petitions have 
been answered only by repeated injury. A prince whose char- 
acter is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is 
unfit to be the ruler of a free people. 

"Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British breth- 
ren. We have warned them, from time to time, of attempts by 
their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jwisdiction over us. 
We have reminded them, of the circumstances of our emigration 
and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice 
and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our 
common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inev? ! 
itably interrupt our connexions and correspondence. They too 
have been deaf to the voice of justice and consanguinity. We 
must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our 
separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind — ene- 
mies in war, in peace, friends. 

"We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of 
America, in general congress assembled, appealing to the Su- 
preme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in 
the name and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, 
solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and 



INTRODUCTION. 45 

of right ought to be, free and independent states; that they are 
absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all po- 
litical connexion between them and the state of Great Britain is, 
and ought to be, dissolved; and that, as free and independent 
states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract 
alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things, 
which independent states may of right do. And for the support 
of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Di- 
vine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our 
fortunes, and our sacred honor." JOHN HANCOCK, Prest. 
Attest — Charles Thompson, Secy. 



Nev;-Hampshire. 
Josiah Bartlett, 
William Whipple, 
Matthew Thornton. 

Massachusetts-Bay. 
Samuel Adams, 
John Adams, 
Robert Treat Paine, 
El bridge Gerry. 

Rhode-Island, 6fc. 
Stephen Hopkins, 
William Ellery. 

Connecticut. 
Roger Sherman, 
Samuel Huntington, 
William Williams, 
Oliver Wolcott. 

New-York. 
William Floyd, 
Philip Livingston, 
Francis Lewis, 
Lewis Morris. 

New- Jersey. » 

Richard Stockton, 
John Witherspoon, 
Francis Hopkinson, 
John Hart, 
Abraham Clark. 

Maryland. 
Samuel Chase, 
William Paca, 
Thomas Stone, 
Charles Carroll. 

5* 



Pennsylvania. 
Robert Morris, 
Benjamin Rush, 
Benjamin Franklin, 
John Morton, 
George Ciymer, 
James Wilson, 
George Ross. 

Delawdre. 
Caesar Rodney, 
Thomas M'Kean, 
George Read, 

Virginia. 
George Wythe, 
Richard Henry Lee, 
Thomas Jefferson, 
Benjamin Harrison, 
Thomas Nelson, juu. 
Francis Lightfoot Lee, 
Carter Braxton. 

North Carolina. 
William Hooper, 
Joseph Hewes, 
John Penn. 

South Carolina. 
Edward Rutledge, 
Thomas Heyward, jun. 
Thomas Lynch, jun. 
Arthur Middleton. 

Georgia. 
Button Gwinnet, 
Lyman Hall, 
George Walton. 



PART I. 

BIOGRAPHY OF AMERICAN MILITARY OFFICERS, 



GEORGE WASHINGTON, ESQ. 
Co>i>iandek-ix-Chief of the American Ae>iv. 

To give us the delightful assurance, that we are always under 
the watchful care of our powerful and kind Creator, he has told us 
in the Bible, that he notices every little sparrow ; and as we are 
"of more value than many sparrows," he will surely ever care for 
us. It was his powerful and kind care that protected and guided 
Columbus, the once poor sailor boy, to obtain the favor of a great 
king and queen, and then to pass over the waves of a dangerous 
ocean, in a little vessel, and reach in safety an unknown land. 
And it was the same kind and powerful care, protected and guided 
houseless strangers to seek spots in that land, on which they might 
find homes; and then gave Washington to their children, to lead' 
them on to take a place amongst the nations of the earth. His 
history is as a shining light upon the path of virtue, for he "ac- 
knowledged God in all his ways." , , 

George Washington was the third son of Augustine Washing- 
ton, whose grandfather left England, his native country, in 1657, 
and chose a home at Bridge's creek, in Virginia, where, on the 

22d of February, in the year 1732, his great grandson, George, 
was born. ' 

One of the first lessons which young Washington received from 
his faithful parents, was, the importance of always speaking the 
truth ; and they enjoyed a satisfactory reward for their attention 
to this duty, for through his childhood the "law of truth was in his 
mouth,"' so that he was not known, in one instance, to tell a false- 
hood, either to obtain a desired indulgence, or to escape a deserved 
punishment or reproof. His character as a lover of truth, was so 
well known at the school which he attended, that the children were 
certain of being believed, when they related any thing, if they 
could say, "George Washington saj's it was so." In all the little 
disputes of his school companions, he was called on to say which 
party was right, and his decisions were always satisfactory, for 
^^Where truth is found, bright virtve still resides, 
And equal Justice every action guides.'''' 



48 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 

1742. When he was ten years old, his worthy father died, and 
he became the care of an anxious mother, whose fortune was not 
sufficient to enable her to give him more than a plain English 
education. He was very fond of studying mathematics, and ap- 
plied his mind in diligently using all the instruction which he 
could get in that science. As he grew up to manhood, he was 
remarkable for the strength and activity of his frame. In run- 
ning, leaping, and managing a horse, he was unequalled by his 
companions j and he could with ease climb' the heights of his na- 
tive mountains, to look down alone from some wild crag, upon his 
followers, who were panting from the toils of the rugged way. — 
By these healthful exercises, the vigor of his constitution was in- 
creased, and he gained that hardiness so important to him in the 
employments designed for him by his Creator. 

Mrs. Washington was an affectionate parent; but she did not 
•encourage in herself that imprudent tenderness, which so oflen 
causes a mother to foster the passions of her children by foolish 
indulgences, and which seldom fails to destroy the respect which 
every child should feel for a parent. George was early made to 
understand that he must obey his mother, and therefore he respect- 
ed as well as loved her. She was kind to his young companions, 
but they thought her stern, because they always felt that they 
must behave correctly in her presence. She owned a remarkably 
fine colt, which she valued very much; but which, though old 
enough for use, had never been mounted: no one would venture 
to ride it, or atrempt to break its wild and vicious spirit. George 
proposed to some of his young companions, that they should assist 
him to secure the colt until he could mount it, as he had deter- 
mined that he would try to tame it. 

Soon after sunrise, one morning, they drove the wild animal 
into an enclosure, and with great difficulty succeeded in placing 
a bridle on it. George then sprang upon its back, and the vexed 
colt bounded over the open fields, prancing and plunging to get 
rid of his burden. The bold rider kept his seat firmly, and the 
struggle between them became alarming to his companions, who 
were watching him. The speed of the colt increased, until at 
length, in making a furious effort to throw his conqueror, he burst 
a large blood-vessel, and instantly died. George was unhurt, but 



GEOJRGE WASHINGTON'. 49 

was much troubled by the unexpected result of his exploit. His 
companions soon joined him, and when they saw the beautiful 
colt, lifeless, the first words they spoke were, "What will your 
mother say — who can tell her?" They were called to breakfast, 
and soon after they were seated at the table, Mrs. Washington 
said, "Well, young gentlemen, have you seen my fine sorrel 
colt in your rambles?" No answer was given, and the question 
was repeated ; her son George then replied — "Your sorrel colt is 
dead, mother." He gave her an exact account of the event : the 
flush of displeasure which first rose on her cheek, soon passed 
away J and she said calmly, "While I regret the loss of my faifor- 
ite, / rejoice in my fion, who always speaks the tnith.'''' 

In his fifteenth year, he had so strong a desire to be actively 
employed, that he applied for a place as a midshipman in the 
English navy, and succeeded in obtaining it. Full of youthful ex- 
pectations of , enjoyment in a new scene, he prepared ardently to 
engage in it, when he became convinced that by doing so, he 
should severely pain an anxious parent; and with a true spirit of 
obedience to the command, "Honor thy mother," he gave up his 
fondly cherished plan, and yielded his own inclinations to promote 
her comfort. This act of filial affection proves, that while his 
manly superiority to companions of his own age caused admira- 
tion, his self-denying tenderness as a son deserved esteem. 

1751. Being unwilling to remain inactive, he employed him- 
self industriously and usefully in surveying unsettl^l lands; and 
Avhen he was nineteen years of age, he was appointed one of the 
adjutant-generals of Virginia, with the rank of a major. 

In the year 1753, the plan formed by France for connecting 
Canada with Louisiana by a line of posts, and thus of enclosing 
the British colonies, and of establishing her influence over the 
numerous tribes of Indians on the frontiers, began to be developed. 
In the prosecution of this design, possession had been taken of a 
tract of land, then believed to be within the province of Virginia. 
Mr. Dinwiddle, the lieutenant-governor, being determined to re- 
monstrate against the supposed encroachment and Violation of the 
treaties between the two countries, despatched major Washington 
through tiie wilderness to the Ohio, to deliver a letter to the com- 
manding officer of the French, and also to explore the countr\\ 



1 



50 GEORGE .WASHINGTON. 

This trust of danger and fatigue he executed with great ability. 
He left Williamsburg, October 31, 1753, the very day on which 
he received his commission, and, at the frontier settlement of the 
English, engaged guides to conduct him over the Alleghany 
mountains. After passing them, he pursued his route to the 
Monongahela, examining the country with a military eye, and 
taking the most judicious means for securing the friendship of the 
Indians. He selected the forks of the Monongahela and Allegha- 
ny rivers, as a position which ought to be immediately possessed 
and fortified. At this place the French very soon erected Fort 
du Quesne, which fell into the hands of the English in 1758, and 
was called by them Fort Pitt. Pursuing his way up the Allegha- 
ny to French creek, he found, at a fort upon this stream, the com- 
manding officer, to whom he delivered the letter from Mr. Din- 
widdie. On his return he encountered great difficulties and dan- 
gers. As the snow was deep, and the horses weak from fatigue, 
he left his attendants at the mouth of French creek, and set out 
on foot, with his papers and provisions in his pack, accompanied 
only by his pilot, Mr. Gist. At a place upon the Alleghany, cal- 
led Murdering town, they fell in with a hostile Indian, who was 
one of a party then lying in wait, and who fired upon them, not 
ten steps distant. They took him into custody, and kept him 
until nine o'clock, and then let him go. To avoid the pursuit 
which they presumed would be commenced in the morning, they 
travelled all night. On reaching the Monongahela, they had a 
hard day's work to make a raft with a hatchet. In attempting to 
cross the river to reach a trader's house, they were enclosed b} 
masses of ice. In order to stop the raft, major Washington put 
down his setting-pole, but the ice came with such force against it, 
as to jerk him into the water. He saved himself by seizing one 
of the raft logs. With difficulty they landed on an island, where 
they passed the night. The cold was so severe that the pilot's 
hands and feet were frozen. The next day they crossed the river 
upon the ice. Washington arrived at Williamsburg, January 16, 
1754. His journal, \yhich evinced the solidity of his judgment 
and his fortitude, was published. 

"As the French seemed disposed to remain upon the Ohio, it 
was determined to raise a regiment of three hundred men to 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 51 

maintain the claims of the British Crown. The command was 
ffiven to Mr. Fry, and major Washington, who was appointed 
lieutenant-colonel, marched with two companies early in April, 
1754, in advance of the other troops. A few miles west of the 
( Jreat Meadows, he surprised a French encampment in a dark, 
rainy night, and only one man escaped. Before the arrival of the 
two remaining companies, Mr. Fry died, and the command de- 
volved on colonel Washington. Being joined by two other com- 
panies of regular troops from South Carolina and New-York, 
after erecting a small stockade at the Great Meadows, he proceed- 
ed towards Fort du Quesne, which had been built but a short time, 
with the intention of dislodging the French. He had marched 
only thirteen miles to the westernmost foot of the Laurel Hill, 
before he received information of the approach of the enemy 
with superior numbers, and was induced to return to his stockade. 
He began a ditch around it, and called it Fort Necessity ; but the 
next day, July 3d, he was attacked by fifteen hundred men. His 
own troops were only about four hundred in number. The ac- 
tion commenced at ten in the morning, and lasted until dark. A 
part of the Americans fought within the fort, and a part in the 
ditch filled with mud and water. Colonel Washington was him- 
.<5elf on the outside of the fort during the whole day. The enemy 
fought under cover of the trees and high grass. In the course of 
the night, articles of capitulation were agreed upon. The garri 
son was allowed to retain their arms and baggage, and to march 
unmolested to the inhabited parts of Virginia. The loss of the 
Americans in killed and wounded was supposed to be about a 
hundred, and that of the enemy two hundred. In a few months 
afterwards orders were received for settling the rank of the offi- 
cers, and those who were commissioned by the king being direct- 
ed to take rank of the provincial officers," colonel Washington in- 
dignantly resigned his commission. He now retired to Mount 
Vernon; that estate, by the death of his brother, having devolved 
upon him. But in the spring of 1775, he accepted an invitation 
from General Braddock, to enter his family as a volunteer aid-de- 
camp, in his expedition to the Ohio. He proceeded with him to 
Will's creek, afterwards called Fort Cumberland, in April. After 
the troops had marched a few miles from this place, he was seized 



1)2 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

with a raging fever; but refusing to remain behind, he was con- 
i?leyed in a covered wagon. By his advice, twelve hundred men 

}ere detached, in order, by a rapid movement, to reach Fort du 
uesne before an expected re-inforcement should be received at 
*liat place. These disencumbered troops were commanded by 
fcaddock himself, and colonel Washington, though still extremely 
/ill, insisted upon proceeding with them. After they arrived upon 
the Monongahela, he advised the general to employ the ranging 
/ companies of Virginia to scour the woods, and to prevent ambus- 
, cades, but his advice was not followed. On the 9th of July, when 
the army was within seven miles of Fort du Quesne, the enemy 
commenced a sudden and furious attack, being concealed by the 
wood and high grass. In a short time colonel Washington was 
the only aid that was unwounded, and on him devolved the whole 
duty of carrying the oi-ders of the commander-in-chief He was 
cool and fearless. Though he had two horses killed under him, 
and four balls through his coat, he escaped unhurt, while every 
other officer on horseback was either killed or wounded. Doctor 
Craik, the physician who attended him in his last sickness, was 
present in this battle, and says, "I expected every moment to see 
him fall. Nothing but the superintending care of Providence 
could have saved him from the fate of all around him." After an 
action of three hours, the troops gave way in all directions, and 
colonel Washington and two others brought offBraddock, who had 
been mortally wounded. He attempted to rally the retreating 
troops ; but as he says himself, it was like endeavoring "to stop 
the wild bears of the mountains." The conduct of the regular 
troops was most cowardly. The enemy were few in numbers, 
and had no expectation of victory, 

"la a sermon occasioned by this expedition, the Rev. Mr. 
Davis, of Hanover county, thus prophetically expressed himself: 
"As a remarkable instance of patriotism, I may point out to the 
public that heroic youth, colonel Washington, whom I cannot 
but h ope Providence has hitherto preserved in so singular a man- 
ner for some important service to his country." For this purpose 
he was indeed preserved, and at the end of twenty years he be- 
gan to render his country more important services than the minis- 
ter of Jesus could have anticipated. From 1755 to 1758 he 



GEORGE WASHIXqTON, 53 

commanded a regiment which was raised for the protection of the 
frontier s, and during this period he was incessantly occupied in 
efforts to shield the exposed settlements from the. incursions of the 
sava^s. His exertions were in a great degree ineffectual, in 
consequence of the errors and the pride of government, and of 
the UTipossibility of guarding, with a ("ew troops, an extended ter- 
ritary from an enemy which was averse to open warfare. He, in 
thft most earnest manner, recommended offensive measures, as the 
only method of giving complete protection to the scattered settle- 
fnents. 

"In the yffar 1758, to his great joy, it was determined to un- 
dertake another expedition against Fort du Quesne, and he engag- 
ed in it with zeal. Early in July, the troops were assembled at 
Fort Cumberland ; and here, against all the remonstrances and ar- 
guments of colonel Washington, general Forbes resolved to open 
a neMroad to the Ohio, instead of taking the old route. Such was 
the predicted delay, occasioned by this measure, that in Novem- 
ber it was resolved not to proceed further during that campaign. 
But intelligence of the weakness of the garrison induced an alter- 
ation of the plan of passing the winter in the wilderness. By slow 
marches the army was enabled, the 25th of November, to reach 
Fort du Quesne, of which peaceable possession was taken, as the 
enemy, on the preceding night, after setting it on fire, had aban- 
doned it, and proceeded down the Ohio. The works in this place 
were repaired, and its name was changed to that of Fort Pitt. The 
success of the expedition was to be attributed to the British fleet, 
which intercepted re-inforcements destined for Canada, and to 
events in th« northern colonies. The great object which he had 
been anxious to effect, being now accomplished, and his health be- 
ing enfeebled, colonel Washington resigned his commission as com- 
mander-in-chief of all the troops raised in Virginia, 

"Soon after his resignation he was married to the widow of Mr. 
Custis, a young lady to whom he had been for some time strongly 
attached, and who, to ajarge fortune and a fine person, added those 
amiable accomplishments which fill with silent felicity the scenes 
of domestic life. His attention, for several years, was principally 
directed to the management of his estate, which had now become 
considerable. He had nine thousand acres under his own man- 
6 



54 GEOEGE WASHIXGTOX. 

agement. So great a part was cultivated, that, in one year, he 
raised seven thousand bushels of wheat and ten thousand of Indian 
corn. His slaves and other persons employed by him, amounted 
to near a thousand ; and the woollen and linen cloth necessary for 
their use was chiefly manufactured on the estate. He was at this'' 
period a respectable member of the legislature of Virginic\, ia 
which he took a decided part in opposition to the principle of tax- 
ation asserted by the British parliament. He also acted as a judge 
of a county court. In 1774, he was elected a member of the fir^t 
congress, and was placed on all those committees whose duty i*: 
was to make arrangements for defence. In the following year, af- 
ter the battle of Lexington, when it was determined by congress 
to resort to arms, colonel Washington was unanimously elected 
commander-in-chief of the army of the united colonies. All were 
satisfied as to his qualifications, and the delegates from New-En- 
gland were particularly pleased with his election, as it would tend 
to unite the southern colonies cordially in the war. He accepted 
the appointment with diffidence, and expressed his intention of re- 
ceiving no compensation for his services, and only a mere discharge 
of his expenses. He immediately repaired to Cambridge, in the 
neighborhood of Boston, where he arrived on the 2d of July. He 
formed the army into three divisions, in order the most effectually 
to enclose the enemy, intrusting the division at Roxbury, to gene- 
ral Ward, the division on Prospect and Winter Hills, to general 
Lee, and commanding himself the centre at Cambridge. Here 
he had to struggle with great difficulties, with the want of ammu- 
nition, clothing, and magazines, defect of arras and discipline, and 
the evils of short enlistments ; but instead of yielding to despon- 
dence, he bent the whole force of his mind to overcome them. He 
soon made the alarming discovery, that there was only sufficient 
powder on hand to furnish the army with nine cartridges for each 
man. With the greatest caution to keep this fact a secret, the ut- 
most exertions were employed to procure a supply. A vessel 
which was despatched to Africa, obtained for New-England rum, 
all the gunpowder in the British factories ; and in the beginning of 
wintef, captain Manly captured an ordnance brig, which furnished 
the American army with the precise articles of which it was m 
the greatest want. In September, general Washington despatched 



GEORGE WASHIXGTOX. 55 

Arnold on an expedition against Quebec. In February, 1776, 
■he proposed to a council of his officers to cross the ice and attack 
the enemy in Boston ; .but they unanimously disapproved of the 
daring measure. It was, however, soon resolved.to take posses- 
sion of the hciglits of Dorchester. This was done without dis- 
cover}', on the night of the 4th of March, and on the 17th the 
enemy found it necessary to evacuate the town. The recovery of 
Boston induced congress to pass a vote of thanks to general Wash- 
ington and his brave army. 

•*'In the belief that the efforts of the British would be directed to- 
wards the Hudson, he hastened the army to New-York, where he 
himself arrived on the 14th of April. He made every exertion to 
fortify the city, and attention was paid to the forts in the highlands. 
While he met the most embarrassing- difficulties, a plan was form- 
ed to assist the enemy in seizing his pei'son, and some of his own 
guards engaged in the conspiracy ; but it was discovered, and some 
who were concerned in it were executed. 

"In the beginning of July, general Howe landed his troops at 
Staten Island. His brother, lord Howe, who commanded the fleet, 
soon arrived ; and as both were commissioners for restoring peace 
to the colonies, the latter addressed a letter upon the subject to 
•'George Washington, esq.' but the general refused to receive it, as 
it did not acknowledge the public character with which he was 
invested by congress, in which character only he could have any 
intercourse with his lordship. Another letter was sent to 'George 
Washingtcn, »Scc. &,c. &c.' This, for the same reason, was re- 
jected- 

"After the disastrous battle of Brooklyn, on the 27th of August, 
in which Stirling and Sullivan were taken prisonersj and of which 
he was only a spectator, he withdrew the troops from Long Island, 
and in a ^ew days he resolved to withdraw from New-York. At 
Kipp's Bay, about three miles from the city, some works had been 
thrown up to oppose the enemy ; but, on tlieir approach, the Amer- 
ican troops fled with precipfitation. Washington rode towards the 
lines, and made every exertion to prevent the disgraceful flight. 
He drew his sword, and threatened to run the cowards through ; 
he cocked and snapped his pistols ; but it was all in vain. Such 
was the state of his mind at this moment, that he turned his horse 



56 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

towards the advancing enemy, apparently with the intention of 
rushing upon death. His aids now seized the bridle of his horse 
and rescued him from destruction. New-York, was, on the same 
day, September 15th, evacuated. In October he retreated to the 
White Plains, where, on the 28th, a considerable action took place, 
in which the Americans were overpowered. After the loss of 
Forts Washington and Lee, he passed into New-Jersey, in No- 
vember, and was pursued by a numerous and triumphant enemy. 
His army did not amount to three thousand, and it was daily dimin- 
ishing; his men, as the winter commenced, wer« barefooted and 
almost naked, destitute of tents, and of utensils with which to dress 
their scanty provisions; and every circumstance tended to fill the 
the mind with despondence. But general Washington was undis- 
mayed and firm. He showed himself to his enfeebled army with 
a serene and unembarrassed countenance, and they were inspired 
with the resolution of their commander. On the 8th of Decem- 
. ber he was obliged to cross the Delaware ; but he had the precau- 
tion to secure the boats for seventy miles upon the river. While 
the British were waiting for the ice to afford them a passage, as 
his own army had been re-inforced by several thousand men, he 
formed the resolution of carrying the cantonments of the enemy 
by surprise. On the night of the 25th of December, lie crossed 
the river nine miles above Trenton, in a stonn of snow mingled 
with hail and rain, with about two thousand and four hundred men. 
Two other detachments were unable to effect a passage. In the 
morning, precisely at eight o'clock, he surprised Trenton and 
took a thousand Hessians prisoners, a thousand stand of arms, 
and six field pieces. Twenty of the enemy were killed. Of the 
Americans two privates were killed and two frozen to death; and 
one officer and three or four privates were wounded. 

The surprise and capture of the Hessian troops at Trenton is a 
well remembered event in our revolutionary history. It occurred 
at the darkest period of the struggle, and it was in the hour when 
the hopes of the most sanguine had almost failed, that God so sig- 
nally interposed to save our land. 

On that eventful morning, colonel Biddle, of Philadelphia, rode 
by the side of Washington, and it is from his ofl repeated relation 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 57 

of the circumstances of that contest .that we have derived our 
knowledge of the following interesting fact: 

The American troops crossed the Delaware about nine miles 
above Trenton, and marched in two divisions upon the town. This 
unexpected approach and vigorous attack of foes supposed to be 
dispirited and defeated, was completely successful ; and althouo-h 
the floating ice in tl\e river had delayed the crossing, and it was 
eight o'clock when Washington entered the village, the victory 
was gained with an ease altogether unexpected. In a few min- 
utes all the outguards were driven in, the American forces having 
surrounded the town, resistance became fruitless, and the enemy 
surrendered. When this event was communicated to Washington, 
he was pressing forward and animating his troops by his voice and 
example. Instantly checking. his horse, and throwing the reins 
upon his neck, the venerable man raised his hands and eyes to 
heaven, and thus silently and emphatically acknowledged whence 
the victory had come, and what aid he had implored to guard his 
beloved country in the perilous conflicts. It was not until the 
lapse of about a minute that he paused from his devout thankful- 
ness, and ordered the troops to stand to their arms. 

"On the same day he re-crossed the Delaware with the fruits of 
his enterprise; but in two or three days passed again into New- 
Jersey, and concentrated his forces, amounting to five thousand, at 
Trenton. On the approach of a superior enemy under Cornwal- 
lis, January 2, 1777, he drew up his men behind Assumpinck 
creek. He expected an attack in the morning, which would pro- 
bably result in a ruinous defeat. At this moment, when it was 
hazardous, if not impracticable, to return into Pennsylvania, he 
formed the resolution of getting into the rear of the enemy, and 
thus stop them in their progress towards Philadelphia. In the 
night he silently decamped, taking a circuitous route through Al- 
lenstown to Princeton. A sudden change of the weather to se- 
vere cold, rendered the roads favorable for his march. About sun- 
rise his van met a British detachment on its way to join Cornwal- 
lis, and was defeated by it; but as he came up, he exposed him- 
self to every danger, and gained a victory. With three hundred 
prisoners he then entered Princeton. 

"During this march many of his soldiers were without shoes, and 
6* 



58 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

their feet left the marks of blood upon the frozen ground. This 
hardship, and the want of repose, induced him to lead his army to 
a place of security on the road to Morristown. Cornwallis, in 
the morning, broke up his camp, and, alarmed for his stores at 
Brunswick, urged the pursuit. Thus the military genius of 
the American commander, under .the blessings of Divine Provi- 
dence, rescued Philadelphia from the threatened danger, obliged 
the enemy, which had overspread New-Jersey, to return to the 
neighborhood of New-York, and revived the desponding spirit of 
his country. Having accomplished these objects, he retired to> 
Morristown, where he caused his whole army to be inoculated with 
the small pox, and thus was freed from the apprehension of a ca- 
lamity which might impede his operations during the next cam- 
paign. 

"On the last day of May he removed his army to Middlebrook, 
about ten miles from Brunswick, where he fortified himself very 
strongly. An ineffectual attempt was made by Sir William 
Howe to draw him from his position, by marching towards Phil- 
adelphia ; but after Howe's return to New- York, he moved to- 
wards the Hudson, in order to defend the passes, in the expecta- 
tion that a junction with Burgoyne, who was then upon the lakes, 
would be attempted. After the British general sailed from 
New-York and entered the Chesapeake, in August, general 
Washington marched immediately for the defence of Philadel- 
phia. On the 11th of September, he was defeated at Brandy- 
wine, Aviththe loss of nine hundred in killed and wounded. A 
few days afterwards, as he was pursued, he turned upon the 
enemy, determined upon another engagement; but a heavy rain 
so damaged the arms and ammunition, that he was under the 
absolute necessity of again retreating. Philadelpliia was enter- 
ed by Cornwallis on the 26th of September. On the 4th of 
October, the American commander made a well planned attack 
upon the British camp at Germantown ; but in consequence of 
the darkness of the morning, and the imperfect discipline of his 
troops, it terminated in the loss of twelve hundred men, in killed, 
wounded, and prisoners. In December, he went into winter 
quarters at Valley Forge, on the west side of the Schuylkill, be- 
tween twenty and thirty miles from Philadelphia. Here his ar- 



GEORGE \\'ASniXGTOX, 50 

my was in the greatest distress for want of provisions, and he was 
reduced to the necessity of sending out parties to seize what they 
could find. 

"In describing their state in the hut-camp, he said, 'For some 
days there has been Httle less than a famine in the camp ; but 
naked and starving as they are, I cannot enough admire the in- 
comparable fidelity of the soldiers, that they have not before this 
time been excited to a general mutiny or dispersion.' 

"The inhabitants of the surrounding country, knowing this sad 
state of the army, were very uneasy ; one of them left his home 
one day, with an anxious heart, and as he was parsing thought- 
fully the edge of a wood near the hut-camp, he heard low sounds 
of a voice. He stopped to listen, and looking between the trunks 
of the large trees, he saw general Washington engaged in pray- 
er. He passed quietly on, that he might not disturb him: and on 
returning home, told his family he was cheered with a confident 
hope of the success of the Americans; for their leader did not 
trust to his own strength, but sought aid from the hearer of prayer, 
w ho promised in his word, 'Call unto me, and I will answer thee, 
and show thee great and mighty things which thou knowest not.' 

"A female, who lived at the Valley Forge when the army was 
encamped there, told a friend who visited her Soon after they left 
it, that she had discovered that it was the constant custom of Wash- 
ington to retire to a short distance from the camp to worship 
God in prayer. 

"About the same time a combination, in which some members 
of congress were engaged, was formed to remove the comman- 
der-in-chief, and "to appoint to his place Gates, whose successes 
of late had given him a high reputation. But the name of Wash- 
ington was too dear to the great body of Americans to admit of 
such a change. Notwithstanding the discordant materials of 
which his army was composed, there was something in his char- 
acter which enabled him to attach both his oflicers and soldiers so 
strongly to him, that no distress could weaken their affection, nor 
impair the veneration in which he was generally held. Without 
this attachment to him, the army must have been dissolved. — 
General Conway, who was concerned in this faction, being 
wounded in a duel with general Cadwallader, and thinking his 



60 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

wound mortal, wrote to general Washington, 'You are, in my eyes,i 
the great and good man.' On the 1st of February, 1778, there 
were about four thousand men in camp, unfit for duty, for want. of 
clothes. Of these, scarcely a man had a pair of shoes. The 
hospitals also were filled with the sick. At this time the enemy, 
if they had marched out of their winter quarters, would easily 
have dispersed the American army. The apprehension of the 
approach of a French fleet inducing the British to concentrate 
their forces, when they evacuated Philadelphia, on the 17th of 
June, and marched towards New- York, general Washington fol- 
lowed them. Contrary to the advice of a council, he engaged in 
the battle of Monmouth on the 28th; the result of which made an 
impression favorable to the cause of America. He slept in his 
cloak on the field of battle, intending to renew the attack the next 
morning; but at midnight the British marched off in such silence, 
as not to be discovered. Their loss in killed Was about three 
hundred, and that of the Americans sixty-nine. As the campaign 
now closed in the middle states, the American army went into 
winter quarters in the neighborhood of the highlands, upon the 
Hudson. Thus, after the vicissitudes of two years, both armies 
were brought back to the point from which they set out. Dur- 
ing the year 1779, general Washington remained in the neighbor- 
hood of New-York. In January, 1780, in a winter memorable 
for its severity, his utmost exertions were necessary to save the 
army from dissolution. The soldiers, in general, submitted with 
heroic patience to the want of provisions and clothes. At one 
time they ate every kind of horse food but hay. Their suffer- 
ings, at length, were so great, that in March, two of the Connec- 
ticut regiments mutinied: but the mutiny was suppressed, and 
the ringleaders secured. In September, the treachery of Ar- 
nold was detected. In the winter of 1781, such were again the 
privations of the army, that a part of the Pennsylvania line re- 
volted, and marched home. Such, however, was still their pa- 
triotism, that they delivered up some British emissaries to general 
Wayne, who hanged them as spies. Committing the defence of 
the posts on the Hudson to general Heath, general Washington, 
in August, marched, with count Rochambeau, for the Chesapeake, 
to co-operate with the French fleet there. The siege of Yorktown 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. (51 

commenced on the 28(h of September, and on the 19th of Octo- 
ber he reduced Cornwallis to the necessity of surrendering, with 
upwards of seven thousand men, to the combined armies of A«ier- 
ica and France. The day after the capitulation he ordered tjhat 
those who were under arrest should be pardoned, and that divine 
service in acknowledgement of the interposition of Providence- 
should be performed in all the brigades and divisions. This 
event filled America with joy, and was the means of terminating 
the war. 

"Few events of importance took place in 1782. In March, 
1783, he exhibited his characteristic tirmness and decision, in op- 
posing an attempt to produce a mutin}^ by anonymous letters.t— 
His address to his officers on the occasion, displays in a remarka- 
ble degree, his prudence, and the correctness of his judgment. 
When he began to read it, he found himself in some degree em- 
barrassed by the imperfection of his sight. Taking out his spec- 
tacles, he said, 'These eyes, my friends, have grown dim, and 
these locks white, in the service of my countr}^, yet I have never 
doubted her justice.' He only could have repressed the spirit 
which was breaking forth. On the 19th of April, a cessation of 
hostilities Was proclaimed in the American camp. In June he 
addressed a letter to the governors of the several states, congratu- 
lating them on the result of the contest in the establishment of 
independence, and recommending an indissoluble union of the 
states under one federal head, a sacred regard to public justice, 
the adoption of a proper peace establishment, and the prevalence ■ 
of a friendly disposition among the people of the several states. 
It was with keen distress, as well as with pride and admiration, 
that he saw his brave and veteran soldiers, who had suftcred so 
much, and who had borne the heat and burden of the war, returti- 
ing peaceably to their homes, without a settlement of their ac- 
counts, or a farthing of money in their pockets. On the 25th of 
November, New-York was evacuated, and he entered it, accom- 
panied by governor Clinton, and manj^ respectable citizens. On 
the 4th of December he took his farewell of his brave comrades in 
arms. At noon the principal officers of the army assembled at 
Francis' tavern, and their beloved commander soon entered the 
room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling a 



62 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

glass with wine, he turned to them and said, 'With a heart full of 
love and gratitude, I noAv take leave of you ,• I most devoutly wish 
that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your for- 
mer ones have been glorious and honorable.' Having drunk, he 
added, 'I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be 
obliged to you if each of you will come and take me by the hand.* 
Geaeral Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Incapable of utter- 
ance, general Washington grasped his hand, and embraced him. 
In the same affectionate manner he took his leave of each succeed- 
ing officer. In every eye was (he tear of dignified sensibility, and 
not a word was articulated, to interrupt the silence and the tender- 
ness of the scene. Ye men, who delight in blood, slaves of ambi- 
tion! when your work of carnage was finished, could ye thus part 
■\rith your companions in crime? Leaving the room, general 
Washington passed through the corps of light infantry, and walked 
io Whitehall, where a barge waited to carry him toPowles' Hook. 
The whole company followed in mute procession, with dejected 
countenances. When he entered the barge, he turned to them, 
and waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu ; receiving from them 
the same last, affectionate compliment. On the 23d of December 
he resigned his commission to congress, then assembled at Annap- 
-olis. He delivered a short address on the occasion^ in which he 
said, 'I consider it an indispensable duty to close this last solemu 
act of .my official life by commending the interests of our dearest 
country to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the 
superintendence of them to his holy keeping.' He then retired 
to Mount Vernon, to enjoy again the pleasures of domestic life.— ~ 
Here the expressions of the gratitude of his countrymen, in affec- 
tionate addresses, poured in upon him, and he received every tes- 
tmiony of respect and veneration. 

"In his retirement, however, he could not overlook the ptiblic 
interests. He was desirous of opening, by water carriage, a com- 
munication betv/een the Atlantic and the western portions of cur 
country, in order to prevent the diversion of trade down the Mis- 
sissippi and to Canada; fi-om which he predicted consequences 
injurious to the Union. Through his influence, two companies 
were formed for promoting inland navigation. The legislature of 
Virginia presented him with one hundred and fifty shares in them, 



GEORGE WASHI>-GTOX. ' 63 

which he appropriated to public uses. In the year 1786, he wa!5 
convinced, with other statesmen, of the necessity of substituting a 
more vigorous general government in the place of the impotent 
articles of confederation. Still he was aware of the danger of 
running from one extreme to another. He exclaims, in a letter to 
Mr. Jay, "What astonishing changes a few years are capable of 
producing! I am told that even respectable characters speak of a 
monarchical form of government without horror. From thinking 
proceeds speaking : thence to acting is often but a single step. But 
how irrevocable and tremendous ! What a triumph for our enemies 
to verify their predictions! What a triumph for the advocates of 
despotism, to find that we are incapable of governing ourselves, 
and that systems founded on the basis of equal liberty, are merely 
ideal and fallacious!'" In the following year he was persuaded to 
take a seat in the convention which formed the present constitu- 
tion of the United States ; and he presided in that body. In 17S9, 
he was unanimously elected the first president of the United States. 
It was with great reluctance that he accepted this ofhce. His 
feelings, as he said himself, were like those of a culprit going to 
the place of execution. He wished his journey to be private; but 
that wish was not to be gratified. Preparations were made in 
every town and village through which he was to pass, to give him 
proofs of the gratitude of his countrymen for his past services, and 
of their exulting confidence that his future ones would be blessin^-s 
to them. 

"Philadelphia was illuminated, and the next day he was wel- 
comed to Trenton with joy. On the bridge over the Assumpinck 
creek, an arch had been erected and ornamented with laurels and 
flowers, and it was supported by thirteen pillars, entwined with 
wreaths of evergreen. On the front of the arch was inscribed, in 
large letters, the date of the first battle of Trenton, and of the day 
on which the American troops had made a bold stand on the bor- 
ders of the Assumpinck, by which the progress of the English 
army had been stopped. Under this was written, "The defender 
of the mothers will be the protector of the daughters." 

"Washington left his carriage to walk over the bridge, and a 
company of young girls went before him, and strewed fresh flowers 
for his steps to press, These innocent and heart touching proofs 



64 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

of grateful respect, caused tears to roll down his toil marked 
cheeks ; and no doubt those of devout thankfulness were mingled 
with them, by the recollection of the peculiar manner in which he 
had experienced the aid of Divine Providence on ihe spot over 
which he was passing. 

"At Elizabethtown a committee from congress received him, 
and conducted him to the Point, where he entered a handsome 
boat, that had been prepared to convey him to New- York. 

"After receiving such proofs of affectionate attachment, he ar- 
rived at New-York, and was inaugurated first ' president of the 
United States on the 13th of April. In making the necessary 
arrangements of his household, he publicly announced, that nei- 
ther visits of business nor of ceremony would he expected on Sun- 
day, as he wished to reserve that day sacredly to himself. 

"At the close of his first term of four years, he prepared a val- 
edictory address to the American people, anxious to return again 
to the scenes of domestic life ; but the earnest entreaties of his 
friends, and the peculiar situation of his country, induced him to 
be a candidate for a second election. During his administration of 
eight years, the labor of establishing the different departments of 
a new government was accomplished ; and he exhibited the great- 
est firmness, wisdom and independence. He was an American, 
and he chose not to involve his country in the contests of Europe. 
He accordingly, with the unanimous advice of his cabinet, consist- 
ing of Messrs. Jefferson, Hamilton, Knox, and Randolph, issuecTa 
proclamation of neutrality, April 22, 1793, a few days after he 
heard of the commencement of the war between England and 
France. This measure contributed, in a great degree, to the 
prosperity of America. Its adoption was the more honorable to 
the president, as the general sympathy was in favor of the sister 
republic, — against whom it was said Great Britain had com- 
menced the war for the sole purpose of imposing upon her a mon- 
archical form of government. He preferred the peace and wel- 
fare of his country to the breath of popular applause. Another 
. act, in which he proved himself to be less regardful of the public 
partialities and prejudices than of what he conceived to be for the 
public good, was the ratification of the British treaty. The En- 
glish government had neglected to surrender the western posts, 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 65 

and by commercial restrictions, and in other ways, had evinced a 
hostile spirit towards this country. To avert (he calamity of ano- 
ther war, Mr. Jay was nominated as envoy extraordinary, in April, 
1794. In June, 1795, the treaty which Mr. Jay had made, was 
submitted to the senate, and was ratified by that body, on the con- 
dition that one article should be altered. While the president was 
deliberating upon it, an incorrect copy of the instrument was made 
public by a senator, and the whole country was thrown into a state 
of extreme irritation. At this period he, in August, conditionally 
ratified it: and in February, 1796, when it was returned from his 
Britannic majesty with the proposed alteration, he declared it to be 
the law of the land. After this transaction, the house of repre- 
sentatives requested him to lay before them the papers relating 
to the treaty ; but he, with great independence, refused to comply 
with their request, as they could have no claim to an inspection of 
them except upon a vote of impeachment, and as a compliance 
would establish a dangerous precedent. He had, before this, 
shown a disposition to maintain the authority vested in his office, 
by declining to affix his signature to a bill which had passed both 
houses." 

When the time came for a third election of president, the peo- 
ple felt that eight years of peace and prosperity, under the wise 
rule of Washington, had increased the attachment and gratitude 
which he had merited by eight years of faithful service in the de- 
fence of their liberty ; and again they were ready to unite in voting 
for him. Bat he firmly refused to be re-elected. He assured his 
countrymen, that he did not do so from any want of respect for 
their past kindness, or from feeling less anxious for their future 
prosperity ; — that he had twice yielded to their wishes, because he 
thought that it was his duty to do so, but felt that then the happy 
state of their concerns would permit his retiring to enjoy the quiet 
of his own home. As his determination was fii'm, they did not per- 
sist in opposing it, and he prepared to take again the character 
of a private citizen. 

Dec. 7. In concluding his last speech to congress, he said, "I 

cannot omit the occasion to repeat my fervent supplications to the 

Supreme Ruler of the Universe and Sovereign Arbiter of nations, 

that his providential care may still be extended to the United 

7 



66 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

States- that the virtue and happiness of the people may be pre- 
served, and that the government, which they have instituted for 
the protection of their liberties, may be perpetual." 

Congress addressed to him an answer, in the name of the peo- 
jile, in which they expressed their sincere regret for his determi- 
nation "to retire from the public employments of his country ;" and 
concluded it with the wish, — "May you long enjoy that liberty 
which is so dear to you, and to which your name will ever be dear. 
May your own virtue, and a nation's prayers, obtain the happiest 
sunshine for the decline of your days, and the choicest of future 
blessings. For our country's sake, — for the sake of republican 
liberty, it is our earnest wish, that your example may be the guide 
of your successors ; and thus, after being the ornament and safe- 
guard of the present age, become the patrimony of our descend- 
ants." 

In every country, amongst the high and the low, the rich and 
the poor, there are persons who delight in the employment of 
"bearing false witness" against the upright. They may have ex- 
cuses for doing so, which satisfy themselves; but if they would 
examine those excuses fairly, they would know that they are not 
such as they will venture to offer to the great Searcher of hearts, 
when they appear before him, to give an account of their evil 
thoughts and false words. The character of Washington was at- 
tacked by slanderous tongues; but ^^Malice never could blast his 
honor." "Greatness and guilt have too often been allied; but his 
fame was whiter than it was brilliant." 

Ilis last address to his countrymen was like that of an affec- 
tionate father to a beloved family, and contained the most instruc- 
tive, important, and interesting advice that was ever given by 
man to any nation. He counselled his countrymen to cherish 
union as the main prop of their liberty, and said, that "Party spirit 
was baneful in its effects ; created jealousies and false fears ; kin- 
dled enmities, and often caused riots;" and that the mischiefs it 
occasioned, were "sufficient to make it the duty and interest of a 
wise people to discourage and restrain it." He said, "Observe good 
faith and justice towards all nations; cultivate peace and harmony 
with all; religion and morality enjoin this conduct." 
He recommended active attention to every means for increas- * 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 67 

ing useful instruction in every part of the country; and said that 
religion and morality were the only sure supports of national pros- 
perity; and that in vain would that man "claim the tribute of pat- 
riotism, who should labor to subvert those great pillars of human 
happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. 
The mere politician equally with the pious man, ou^ht to respect 
and cherish them. A volume could not ti'ace all their connexions 
with public and private felicity." He said there could be no safety 
for property or reputation, if there was no sense of the religious 
obligation of the oaths taken in a court of justice. That morality 
and religion must not be separated, for there could be no certainty 
of upright conduct where there Avas no religious principle. 

In closing this important and affectionate farewell address, he 
said, "Though in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am 
unconscious of intentional error; lam, nevertheless, too sensible of 
my defects, not to think it probable that I may have committed many 
errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Almighty 
to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I shall also 
carry with me the hope, that my country will never cease to view 
them with indulgence ; and that after forty-five years of my life, 
dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal, the faults of incom- 
petent abilities mil be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon 
be to the mansion of rest." 

Not many of his countrymen had hearts so cold as to be indif- 
ferent to this tender and instructive farewell, and it was received 
with grateful feelings. It was long, and has been often published ; 
and all young Americans should read it with attention, and make a 
firm determination, that they will endeavor to follow the important 
and affectionate counsel which the wise and virtuous Washington 
has left them as a legacy. He toiled through years of anxious 
c'kres to promote the happiness of his countrymen, and knowing 
that "sin is a disgrace to any people," but that "righteousness ex- 
alteth a nation," he earnestly entreated them to consider religion 
as the only lasting support of national prosperity. 

The rest for which Washington had longed, was not idleness; 
and when he had examined every part of his large farm, which 
had been in some degree neglected during his absence, he imme- 
diately commenced the employment of improving it. 



68 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

His faithful mother, in forming his first habits, had not neglect- 
ed that of early rising; and through the whole of his useful life, 
that habit was continued ; in winter, he rose usually two hours be- 
fore day ; and in summer, was ready to enjoy the healthful fresh- 
ness and beauty of the dawn. Thus did the man, who stands high- 
est in the admiration of the world, and whose deeds were exalted 
and laborious, set an example to his countrymen, which if they 
imitate, they will gain for themselves many a precious hour ; which, 
if well employed, may tend to secure the Divine promise, "The 
Lord shall command the blessing upon thee in thy store-houses, 
and in all that thou settest thy hand unto; and he shall bless thee 
in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." 

Tlie habit of early rising, in connexion with the exemplary one 
of strict attention to order in all his employments, gave Washing- 
ton "time for all things," so that though he had such numerous and 
arduous public duties to attend to, he did not neglect any private 
one, but performed with ease himself, what would seem to be em- 
ployment for many. He was remarkably neat in his person ; but 
used a very short portion of time for attention to his dress. 

After his return to his farm, he visited his stables every day, to 
be certain that his horses were well taken care of The one on 
which he rode, when he was dirfecting the seige of Yorktown, he 
did not use again; it was allowed to graze on the best pasture in 
summer, and was carefully stabled in winter, and died of old age, 
several years after the close of the war. 

Washington was employed for several hours, each day, in visit- 
ing all parts of his large farm. He went alone, opening and shut- 
ting the gates, and pulling down and putting up the bars as he 
passed. 

One day colonel Meade, a valued friend of Washington, was 
met by Mr. Custis, a relation of Mrs. Washington; colonel Meade 
inquired if he should find the general at the house, or if he was 
out on the farm. Mr. Custis, not knowing colonel Meade, replied, 
that the general Avas out; and giving directions as to the part of 
the farm on which he would probably be found, added, "You will 
meet, sir, with an old gentleman, riding alone, in plain drah 
clothes, a broad hrimmed white hat, a hickory switch in his hand, 
and carrying an umbrella, with a long staff, which is attached to 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 69 

his saddlc-how, — that, sir, is general Washington .'" The old 
friend of Washington replied, "Thank ye, thank ye, young gentle- 
man; I think, if I fall in with the general I shall be rather apt to 
know him." 

This description of Washington, gives us some knowledge of 
how he looked on his farm. So many pictures of him, in different 
situations, have been drawn, — and young Americans have so often 
seen him represented on sign-posts in every part of the land, that 
they think they know exactly how he looked ; but unless they had 
seen him, instead of pictures of him, they can have no correct idea 
of his noble appearance. In his youth he was remarkable for the 
straightness and manliness of his form, which was six feet and 
two inches high. The expression of his countenance was serious, 
but very pleasing; his eyes were a mild blue, and the flush of 
health gave a glow to his cheeks. His step was always firm; but 
after the toils of the long war, his body was a little bent as he 
walked, and his once smooth forehead and cheeks, were marked 
vdth care-worn furrows. The venerable Charles Wilson Peale, 
who was the founder of the Philadelphia Mtiseum, and lived to 
enter hjs eighty -sixth year, drew a likeness of him, when he was 
colonel Washington, in the service of the king of England ; and 
another, when he was the president of the freed and United 
States. 

At Harper's Ferry are extensive public works for making mili- 
tary arms. If his countrymen regard and follow the important 
farewell counsel of Washington, to '■'■ Observe good faith and jus- 
tice towards all nations, and cultivate peace and harmony with 
all,'''' these arms will not be used, except as weapons of defence; 
and then not until "the cup of reconciliation is exhausted to the 
last drop." 

A weekly school is kept at Harper's Ferry, for the'children of 
the workmen, and they have the blessing of Sunday school in- 
struction. If Washington had lived to the time when there are 
Sunday schools in almost every portion of his native land, no 
doubt as a christian patriot, he would have rejoiced to see the 
children, who are to form a nation, taught to know their Creator 
as he has revealed himself in his word, — to fear, obey, and love 
him, — and thus secure the blessing of "the faithful God, which 

"7 * 



70 GEORGE WASHINGTON'. 

keepeth covenant and mercy with them that love him and keep 
his commandments, to a thousand generations." 

Washington said, "Of all the dispositions and habits which lead 
to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable 
supports." Certainly, then, he would have approved of infants 
being taught to lisp the pure precepts of the gospel, and trained 
to restrain those natural dispositions, which, if indulged, would 
make them in manhood, useless or vicious members of the com- 
munity. He also said, that, "without an humble imitation of the 
example of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, we cannot 
hope to be a happy nation." And as Washington always acted 
as if he believed what he expressed, he would have encouraged 
the effort to place in every family of his country the bible, which 
teaches what that divine example was, and how to obtain that "new 
heart," and "right spirit," which delights in following it. 

The wants of the poor were neither forgotten nor neglected by 
Washington. He contributed liberally to the support of schools 
for the children of the indigent; and the sick and the aged would 
bear testimony to the benevolence of his heart. 

On his farm he had a coiTifortable house built for an old English 
soldier, who had been an attendant of general Braddock, at the 
time of his defeat ; after his death, he entered into the service of 
Washington, and continued in it until the close of the provincial 
war; he then married, and a home was provided for him at Mount 
Vernon. " He was too old to follow his revered commander in the 
struggle for independence, and was left at home to enjoy the com- 
forts which old age requires. Children loved to visit the old sol- 
dier, and listen to his tales of the Indian war, which he delighted 
in telling. When Washington was passing round his farm, he 
often stopped to gladden the heart of the grey-headed veteran 
with kind words ; and he lived to enjoy the comforts which had 
been provided for him, until he was eighty years of age. 

The days of Washington were spent in useful employment;-', 
and his evenings in the enjoyment of domestic happiness. It was 
Ihen his custom to read to his family, such new publications as 
interested him, and on Sunday evenings, the bible and sermons. 
Sometim.es he would sit, as if he forgot that he was not alone, and 
raising his hand he would move his lips silently. In town or 



GEORGE WASHI^GTOX. 71 

country, he was a constant attendant at church, and by his devout 
deportment there, proved that he went to church for the purpose 
of worshipping God. He always acknowledged by his example, 
that he felt his solemn obligation to keep holy the Sabbath dav ; 
and to influence others to do so as far as was in his power. 

General Washington said, that "both reason and experience 
forbid us to expect that morality can prevail to the exclusion of 
religious principle ;" and this sentiment is well supported by the 
great chief justice Hale, of England, who said, "that of all the 
persons who were convicted of capital crimes, while he was upon 
tlie bench, he found a few only, who W'ould not confess, on inqui- 
ry, that they began their career of wickedness by a neglect of the 
duties of the Sabbath, and vicious conduct on that day.''"' And no 
doubt, the prisons of our country could produce a host of witnesses 
to testify the same. Then the example of Washington in remem- 
bering "the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,"' was that of a patriot as 
well as a christian. 

The peaceful life of Washington on his farm was again dis- 
turbed by a call from his countrymen to become their leader in 
the defence of their rights as a nation. The French republic had 
refused to receive general Pinkney, a highly respectable Ameri- 
can, whom Washington had sent to France us minister in the 
year 1796. He was ordered to quit the territories of France ; 
and at the same time that the French republic expressed great 
attachment to the people of the United States, they abused the 
government, and thus showed an intention to endeavor to sepa- 
rate the people from their government. They also captured 
American vessels wherever they were found. The government 
of the United States appointed three envoys, one of whom was 
general Pinkney, to endeavor to preserve peace "on terms com- 
patible with the rights, duties, interests, and honor of the nation.*' 

In the spring of 1798, they informed their government that they 
had entirely failed, and were treated in a very insulting manner. 
Two of them were ordered to quit France, and one who was 
thought to be disposed to favor the designs of the French republic. 
was permitted to remain. That these designs were to attempt to 
make the x\jnerican a tributary nation soon became plain, and 



72 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

throughout the United States the favourite sentiment of all parties 
was, "millions for defence, but not a cent for tribute." 

Congress determined on raising an army, and though they re- 
gretted to deprive the venerable Washington of that rest which he 
had earned by his past services, they complied with the wishes 
of his countrymen, and requested him to accept the command of 
the army. In his reply to this request, which was communicated 
in a letter from the president, he said, (July 13,) "I cannot ex- 
press how greatly I am affected by this new proof of public confi- 
dence. ****** Satisfied that you have sincerely wished and 
endeavored to avert war, and exhausted to the last drop, the cup 
of reconciliation ; we can with pure hearts appeal to heaven for 
the justice of our cause, and may confidently trust the final result 
to that kind Providence, who has heretofore, and so often signally 
favored the people of the United States. Thinking in this man- 
ner, and feeling how incumbent it is upon every person of every 
description, to contribute at all times to his country's welfare, I 
have finally determined to accept the commission of commander- 
in-chief of the armies of the United States, with this reserve only, 
that I shall not be called into the field until the army is in a situa- 
tion to require my presence, or it becomes indispensable by the 
urgency of circumstances." 

He continued to employ himself on his farm, being ready at any 
moment to obey a call to the duties of his appointment. He was 
one day (Dec. 13,) attending to some improvements which he had 
planned, when a shower of rain fell ; before he could reach a 
shelter, his clothes were wet : he changed them when he returned 
home, and sat down to an in-door employment, for he never pass- 
ed an hour in idleness. In the evening, when he joined his fami- 
ly at the tea-table, he said he felt a chillness, and after drinking 
one cup of tea, he went into his library, where he remained alone 
all the evening, for his family knew that he wished not to be dis- 
turbed when he was there. His usual hour for retiring to rest 
was 6 o'clock. When that hour had passed, Mrs. Washin gton be- 
came uneasy, because she did not hear his well known step, or 
his call to the family to prepare for bed. When at length he en- 
tered his chamber, she expressed her surprise that he had staid in 
his library so late when he was not well ; he replied, "I came as 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 73 

soon as the business I was engaged in was accomplished; you 
know that through Ufe it has been my unvaried rule, never to put 
off till to-morrow the duties which should be performed to-day." 
Soon after he laid down to rest, he was seized with a violent dis-- 
ease in his throat, accompanied with a fever. He would not dis- 
turb his family until towards morning, and he was then bled, but 
did not feel relieved. At 1 1 o'clock his physician, who was a long 
loved friend, arrived, and on seeing him, became so much alarm- 
ed that he desired that two other physicians might be sent for. — 
They came, but all human skill wasuseless. When Washington 
felt the chill the evening before, he believed it to be a messenger 
from his Creator to warn him to prepare for entering "the valley 
of the shadow of death ;" and he only consented to take the med- 
icines which were offered to him, because he thouglit it was his 
duty to gratify his anxious friends. He rose from his bed, and 
named a place where two papers would be found which he wish- 
ed tohave. When they were brought, he directed that one should 
be destroyed, but said, taking the other in his hand, "preserve 
tliis, it is my will." His disease increased so much that he could 
not swallow, and he undressed himself and laid down to die, re- 
questing that he might not be disturbed, and saying, with calmness, 
"I am dying, and have been dying for a long time, but I am not 
afraid to die." He did not speak again until the night was far ad- 
vanced; and then he asked faintly what was the hour, and was 
answered, "near 12 o'clock." In a few minutes he stretched his 
form to its full length, folded his arms across his breast, and his 
countenance became so placid, as his "spirit returned to God who 
gave it," (December 14,) that the friends who were watching him 
in almost breathless silence, did not know the moment of his death. 
His loved wife kneeled beside his bed, with her head resting on 
the Bible, in which she daily read the precepts and cheering pro- 
mises of her Saviour; and they comforted her in her hour of 
deepest sorrow. Her miniature portrait was found on the bosom 
of Washington, where he had worn it for forty years. 

The report of his death reached congress before they knew of 
his sickness ; and when they heard it, a solemn silence prevailed 
for several minutes; judge Marshall, the present chief justice of 
the United States, observed, "This information is not certain, but 



74 GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 

there is too much reason to believe it true. After receiving intel- 
gence of a national calamity so heavy and afflicting, the house of 
representatives can be but ill-titted for public business." He then 
moved an adjournment, and both houses adjourned until the next 
day. When congress then met, Mr. Marshall rose and said, 

"The melancholy event which was yesterday announced with 
doubt, has been rendered but too certain; our Washington is no 
more! The hero, the patriot, the sage of America — the man on 
whom in times of danger every eye was turned, and all hopes 
were placed, lives now only in his own great actions, and the hearts 
of an affectionate and afflicted people. If it had even not been 
usual openly to testify respect for the memory of those whom 
heaven has selected as its instruments for dispensing gootl toman, 
yet such has been the uncommon worth, and such the extraordina- 
ry incidents which have marked th5 life of him whose loss we de- 
plore, that the whole American nation, impelled by the same feel- 
ings, wouW call with one voice for a public manifestation of that 
sorrow, which is so deep and so universal. More than any other 
individual, and as much as to one individual was possible, he has 
contributed to found this our wide-spreading empire, and to give 
the western world independence and freedom. Having effected 
the great object for which he was placed at the head of our armies, 
we have seen him convert the sword into the ploughshare, and sink 
the soldier into the citizen. 

"When the debility of our federal system had become manifest, 
and the bonds which connected this vast continent were dissolving, 
we have seen him the chief of those patriots who have formed for 
us a constitution, which, by preserving the union, will, I trust, 
substantiate and perpetuate those blessings which our revolution 
had promised to bestow. 

"In obedience to the general voice of his country calling him 
to preside over a great people, we have seen him once more quit 
the retirement he loved, and in a season more stormy and tem- 
pestuous than war itself, with calm and wise determination pur- 
sue the true interests of the nation, and contribute more than any 
other could contribute, to the establishment of that system of poli- 
cy, which will, I trust, yet preserve our peace, our honor, and our 
independence. Having been twice unanimously chosen the chief 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 75 

magistrate of a free people, we have seen him, at a time when 
his re-election with universal suftrage could not be doubted, afford 
to the world a rare instance of moderation, by withdrawing from 
his station to the peaceful walks of private life. However public 
confidence may change, and the public affections fluctuate with 
respect to others, they have in war and in peace, in public and in 
private life, been as steady as his own firm mind, and as constant 
as his own exalted virtues. Let us, then, pay the last tribute of 
respect to our departed friend. Let the grand council of the na- 
tion display those sentiments which the nation feels." 

Mr. Marshall then proposed several resolutions; one of which 
was, "Resolved, That a committee, in conjunction with one from 
the senate, be appointed to consider on the most suitable manner 
of paying honor to the memory of the man, first in war, first in 
peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow citizens." 

The senate addressed a letter to the president, in which they 
said, "Permit us, sir, to mingle our tears with yours. On this oc- 
casion it is manly to weep. To lose such a man at such a crisis, 
is no common calamity to the world. Our country mourns a fa- 
ther. The Almighty Disposer of human events, has taken from 
us our greatest benefactor and ornament. It becomes us to submit 
with reverence to him 'who maketh darkness his pavilion.' " 

The president returned an answer expressive of his sorrow for 
the death of Washington, and in the conclusion of it, said, "His ex- 
ample is now complete,- and it will teach wisdom and virtue to 
magistrates, citizens and men, not only in the present age, but in 
future generations, as long as our history shall be read." 

The people throughout the United States, mourned for Wash- 
ington. They had been ever ready to unite in expressing their 
grateful attachment to him, and they felt that they had indeed lost 
their greatest benefactor. 

In his will, which was a just and benevolent one, he directed 
that his body should be laid in a vault, at Mount Vernon, and add- 
ed, "It is my express desire, that my corpse may be interred in a 
private manner, without parade or funeral oration." 

On the 18th of December, he was laid in the grave, "the house 
appointed for all living;" and the last home of Washington is an 
humble grass-covered tomb, surrounded with evergreens. 



70 JOSEPH WAREEN. 

JOSEPH WARREN, 
Major-General in the American Army. 
Joseph Warren, whose biography is given in the following 
pages, was born in Roxbury, Massachusetts, in the year 1741, — 
His father was a respectable farmer in that town, and was elected 
by his fellow citizens to several municipal offices, the duties of 
which he discharged to general acceptance. Little is known res- 
pecting the early years of young Warren. Joseph, with several 
of his brothers, was instructed in the elementary branches of 
knowledge, at the public grammar school of the town, which was 
distinguished for its successive instructors of superior attainments. 
In 1755, he entered college, where he sustained the character of 
a youth of talents, fine manners, and of a generous, independent 
deportment, united to great personal courage and perseverance. 
An anecdote will illustrate his fearlessness and determination at 
that age, when character can hardly be said to be formed. Sev- 
eral students of Warren's class shut themselves in a room to ar- 
range some college affairs, in a way which they knew was con- 
trary to his wishes, and barred the door so effectually that he could 
not without great violence force it : but he did not give over the at- 
tempt of getting among them; for perceiving that the window of 
Jhe room in which they were assembled was open, and near a spout 
which extended from the roof of the building to the ground, he went 
to the top of the house, slid down to the eaves, seized the spout, 
and when he had descended as far as the window, threw himself 
into the chamber among them. At that instant the spout, which 
was decayed and weak, gave way and fell to the ground. He 
looked at it without emotion, said that it had served his purpose, 
and began to take his part in the business, A spectator of this 
feat and narrow escape related this fact to me in the college yard, 
nearly half a century afterwards; and the impression it made on 
his mind was so strong, that he seemed to feel the same emotion 
as though it happened but an hour before. 
■ On leaving college in 1759, Warren turned his attention to the 
study of medicine, under the direction of Dr. Lloyd, an eminent 
physician of that day, whose valuable life has been protracted al- 
most to the present time, Warren was distinguished very soon 
after he commenced practice ; for when, in 1764, the small-po.\ 



JOSEPH WARREN. 77 

spread in Boston, he was among the most successful in his method 
of treating that disease, which was then considered the most dread- 
ful scourge of the human race; and the violence of which had 
baffled the efforts of the learned faculty of medicine from the time 
of its first appearance. From this moment he stood high among 
his brethren, and was the favorite of the people ; and what he 
gained in their good will he never lost. His personal appearance, 
his address, his courtesy, and his humanity, won the way to the 
hearts of all; and his knowledge and superiority of talents, secur- 
ed the conquest, A bright and lasting fame in his profession, with 
the attendant consequences, wealth and influence, were within his 
reach, and near at hand ; but the calls of a distracted country were 
paramount to every consideration of his own interests, and he en- 
tered the vortex of politics never to return to the peaceful course 
of professional labor. 

The change in public opinion had been gradually preparing the 
minds of most men for a revolution. This was not openly avowed ; 
amelioration of treatment for the present, and assurances of kind- 
ness in future, were all that the colonies asked from Great 
Britain — but these they did not receive. The mother country mis- 
look the spirit of her children, and used threats, when kindness 
would have been the best policy. When Britain declared her 
right to direct, govern, and tax us in any form, and at all times, 
the colonies reasoned, remonstrated, and entreated for awhile; 
and when these means did not answer, they defied and resisted. 
The pohtical writers of the province had been active and busy, 
but they were generally screened by fictitious names, or sent their 
productions anonymously into the world : but the time had arrived, 
when speakers of nerve and boldness were wanted to raise their 
voices against oppression in every shape. Warren possessed first 
rate qualites for an orator, and had early declared in the strongest 
terms his political sentiments, which were somewhat in advance 
of public opinion; for he held as tyranny all taxation, which could" 
be imposed by the British parliament upon the colonies. In times 
of danger, the people are sagacious, and cling to those who best 
can ser^'e them; and every eye wa£ on him in every emergency ; 
for he had not only the firmness and decision they wished for in a 
Jeader, but was prudent and wary iu all his plan?. His first object 



78 JOSEPH WARRE3V. 

v/as to enlighten the people ; and then he felt sure of engaging 
their feelings in the general cause. He knew when once they 
began, it would be impossible to tread back — independence only 
would satisfy the country. With an intention of directing public 
sentiment, without appearing to be too active, he met frequently 
with a considerable number of substantial mechanics, and others 
in the middle classes of society, who were busy in politics. This 
crisis required such a man as they found him to be ; one who 
could discern the signs of the times, and mould the ductile mate- 
rials to his will, and at the same time seem only to follow in the 
path of others. His letter to Barnard, which attracted the notice 
of government, had been written several years before, in 1768 j 
but in some form or other he was constantly enlightening the peo- 
ple by his pen ,• but it is now difficult, and of no great importance 
to trace him in the papers of that period. The public was not 
then always right in designating the authors of political essays. 
In the different situations in which he was called to act, he assum- 
ed as many characters as fable has ever given to the tutelar god 
of his profession, and like him, in every one of them he retained 
the wisdom to guide, and the power to charm. At one time he 
might be found restraining the impetuosity, and bridling the fury of 
those hot-headed politicians who felt more than they reasoned, 
and dared to do more than became men. Such was his versatility, 
that he turned from these lectures of caution and prudence, to as- 
serting and defending the most bold and undisguised principles of 
liberty, and defying in their very teeth the agents of the crown. 
Twice he was elected to deliver the oration on the 5th of March, 
in commemoration of the massacre; and his orations are among the 
most distinguished, produced by that splendid list of speakers who 
addressed their fellow-citizens on this subject, so interesting to 
them all. In these productions generally, the immediate causes 
of this event were overlooked, and the remote ones alone were 
discussed. Here they were on safe ground; for tyranny, in its in- 
cipient stages, has no excuse from opposition ; but in its march, it 
generally finds some plausible arguments for its proceedings, 
drawn from the very resistance it naturally produces. These oc- 
casions gave the orators a fine field for remark, and a fair opportu- 
mity for effect. The great orators of antiquity, in their speeches, 



JOSEPH WARREN. 79 

attempted only to rouse the people to retain what they possessed. 
Invective, entreaty, and pride had their effect in assisting these 
niii^hty masters to influence the people. They were ashamed to 
lose what their fathers left them, won by their blood, and so long 
preserved by their wisdom, their virtues and their courage. Our 
statesmen had a hard task to perform,- for they were compelled to 
call on the people to gain what they had never enjoyed — an inde- 
pendent rank and standing among the nations of the world. 

His next oration was delivered March Gth, 1775. It was at his 
own solicitation that he was appointed to this duty a second time. 
The fact is illustrative of his character, and worthy of rememb- 
rance. Some British officers of the army then in Boston, had 
publicly declared that it should be at the price of the life of 
any man to speak of the event of March 5, 1770, on that anniver- 
sary. Warren's soul took fire at such a threat, so openly made, 
and he wished for the honor of braving it. This was readily gran- 
ted ; for at such a time a man would probably find but few rivals. 
Many who would spurn the thought of personal fear, might be ap- 
prehensive that they would be so far disconcerted as to forget their 
discourse. It is easier to fight bravely, than to tliink clearly or 
correctly in danger. Passion sometimes nerves the arm to fight, 
but disturbs the regular current of thought. The day came, and 
the weather was remarkably fine. The Old South meeting-house 
was crowded at an early hour. The British officers occupied the 
aisles, the fiight of steps to the pulpit, and several of them were 
within it. It was not precisely known whether this Avas accident 
or design. The orator, with the assistance of his friends, made 
his entrance at the pulpit window by a ladder. The officers see- 
ing his coolness and intrepidity, made way for him to advance and 
address the audience. An awful stillness preceded his exordium. 
Each man felt the palpitations of his own heart, and saw the pale, but 
determined face of his neighbor. — The speaker began his oration 
in a firm tone of voice, and proceeded with great energy and pa- 
thos. Warren and his friends were prepared to chastise contume- 
ly, prevent disgrace, and avenge an attempt at assassination. 

The scene was sublime ; a patriot, in whom the flush of youth 
and the grace and dignity of manhood were combined, stood armed 
in the sanctuary of God, to animate and encourage the sons of 



80 JOSEPH WARREN, 

liberty, and to hurl defiance at their oppressors. The orator cont' 
menced with the early history of the country, described the tenure 
by which we held our liberties and property — the affection we had 
constantly shown the parent country, and boldly told them how, and 
by whom these blessings of life had been violated. There was in 
this appeal to Britain — in this description of suffering, agony and 
horror, a calm and high-souled defiance which must have chilled 
the blood of every sensible foe. Such another hour has seldom 
happened in the history of man, and is not surpassed in the re- 
cords of nations. The thunders of Demosthenes rolled at a dis- 
tance from Philip and his host — and Tully poured the fiercest tor- 
rent of hisinvective when Cataline was at a distance, and his dag- 
ger no longer to be feared ; but Warren's speech was made to 
proud oppressors resting on their arms, whose errand it was to 
overawe, and whose business it was to fight. 

If the deed of Brutus deserved to be commemorated by history, 
poetry, painting, and sculpture, should not this instance of patriot- 
ism and bravery be held in lasting remembrance ? If he 
" That struck the foremost man of all this world,'''' 
was hailed as the firstof freemen, what honors are not due to him, 
who, undismayed, bearded the British lion, to show the world what 
his countrymen dared to do in the cause of liberty? If the statue 
of Brutus was placed among those of the gods, who were the pre- 
servers of Roman freedom, should not that of Warren fill a lofty 
niche in the temple reared to perpetuate the remembrance of our 
birth as a nation? 

If independence was not at first openly avowed by our leading 
men at that time, the hope of attaining it was fondly cherished, and 
the exertions of the patriots pointed to this end. The wise knew 
the storm, which the political Prosperos were raising, would pass 
away in blood. With these impressions on his mind, Warren for 
several years was preparing himself by study and observation, 
to take a conspicuous rank in the military arrangements which he 
knew must ensue. 

On the 18th of April, 1775, by his agents in Boston, he dis- 
covered the design of the British commander to seize or destroy 
our few stores at Concord. He instantly despatched several con- 
fident messengers to Lexington. The late venerable patriot, Paul 



JOSEPH WARREN. 81 

Revere, was one of them. This gentleman has given a very in- 
teresting account of the dilficulties he encountered in the discharge 
of this duty. The alarm was given, and the militia, burning with 
resentment, were at day -break, on the 19th, on the road to repel 
insult and aggression. The drama was opened about sunrise, 
within a few yards of the house of God, in Lexington. Warren 
hastened to the field of action, in the full ardor of his soul, and 
shared the dangers of the day. While pressing on the enemy, 
a musket ball took off a lock of his hair close to his ear. The 
lock was rolled and pinned, after the fashion of that day, and con- 
siderable force must have been necessary to have cut it away. 
The people were delighted with his cool, collected bravery, and 
already considered him as a leader whose gallantry they were 
to admire, and in whose talents they were to confide. On the 
14th of June, 1775, the provincial congress of Massachusetts made 
him a major-general of their forces, but previous to the date of his 
commission, he had been unceasing in his exertions to maintain 
order and enforce discipline among the troops, which had hastily 
assembled at Cambridge, after the battle of Lexington. He 
mingled in the ranks, and by every method and argument strove 
to inspire them with confidence, and succeeded in a most wonder- 
ful manner in imparting to them a portion of the flame which 
glowed in his own breast. At such a crisis genius receives its 
birth-right — the homage of inferior minds, who, for self preserva- 
tion, are willing to be directed Previous to receiving the appoint- 
ment of major-general, he had been requested to take the office of 
physician-general to the army ; but he chose to be where wounds 
were to be made, rather than where they were to be healed. Yet 
he lent his aid and advice to the medical department of the army, 
and was of great service to them in their organization and ar- 
rangements. 

He was at this time president of the provincial congress, having 
been elected the preceding year a member from the town of Bos- 
ton. In this body he displayed his extraordinary powers of mind, 
and his peculiar fitness for responsible offices at such a juncture. 
Cautious in proposing measures, he was assiduous in pursuing 
what he thought, after mature deliberation, to be right, and never 
counted the probable cost of a measure, when he had decided that 



82 JOSEPH WARREN. 

it was necessary to be taken. When this congress, which was 
pitting at Watertown, adjourned for the day, he mounted his horse 
and hastened to the camp. Every day "he bought golden opinions 
of all sorts of men ;" and M'hen the troops were called to act on 
Breed's Hill, he had so often been among them, that his person 
was known to most of the soldiers. 

Several respectable historians have fallen into some errors in 
describing the battle in which he fell, by giving the command of 
the troops on that day to Warren, when he was only a volunteer 
in the fight. He did not arrive on the battle ground until the en- 
emy had commenced their movements for the attack. As soon as 
he made his appearance on the field, the veteran commander of 
the day, colonel Prescott, desired to act under his directions, but 
Warren declined taking any other part than that of a volunteer, 
and added that he came to learn the art of war from an experi- 
enced soldier, whose orders he should be happy to obey. In the 
battle he was armed with a musket, and stood in the ranks, now 
and then changing his place to encourage his fellow soldiers by 
words and example. He undoubtedly, from the state of hostilities, 
expected soon to act in his high military capacity, and it was in- 
dispensable, according to his views, that he should share the dan- 
gers of the field as a common soldier with his fellow citizens, that 
his reputation for bravery might be put beyond the possibility of a 
.suspicion. The wisdom of such a course would never have been 
doubted, if he had returned with safety from the fight. In such a 
struggle for independence, the ordinary rules of prudence and 
caution could not govern those who were building up their names 
for future usefulness by present exertion. Some maxims drawn 
from the republican writers of antiquity were worn as their mottos. 
Some precepts descriptive of the charms of liberty, were ever on 
their tongues, and some classical model of Greek or Roman patri- 
otism, was constantly in their minds. Instances of great men 
mixing in the i-anks of common soldiers, were to be found in anci- 
ent times, when men fought for their altars and their homes. The 
cases were parallel, and the examples were imposing. When 
the battle was decided, and our people fled, Warren was one of 
the last who left the breast-work, and was slain within a few yards 
of it, as he was slowly retiring. He probably felt mortified at the 





.4' 



JOSEPH WARREN. 83 

event of the day, but had he known how dearly the victory was 
purchased, and how little honor was gained by those who won it, 
his heart might have been at rest. Like the band of Leonidas, 
the vanquished have received by the judgment of nations, from 
which there is no appeal, the imperishable laurels of victors. 
His death brought a sickness to the heart of the community; and 
the people mourned his fall, not with the convulsive agony of a 
betrothed virgin over the bleeding corse of her lover — but with 
the pride of the Spartan mother, who in the intensity of her grief, 
smiled to see that the wounds whence life had flown, were on the 
breast of her son — and was satisfied that he had died in the de- 
fence of his country. The worth of the victim, and the horror of 
the sacrifice, gave a higher value to our liberties, and produced a 
more fixed determination to preserve them. 

The battle of Bunker Hill has often been described, and of late 
its minutest details given to the public, but never was the military, 
moral, and political character of that great event more forcibly 
drawn, than in the following extract from the North American 
Review, for July, 1818: — 

"The incidents and the result of the battle itself, were most im- 
portant, and indeed, most wonderful. As a mere battle, few sur- 
pass it in whatever engages and interests the attention. It was 
fought on a conspicuous eminence, in the immediate neighborhood 
of a populous city; and consequently in the view of thousands of 
spectators. The attacking army moved over a sheet of water to 
the assault. The operations and movements were of course all 
visible and distinct. — Those who looked on from the houses and 
heights of Boston had a fuller view of every important operation 
and event, than can ordinarily be had of any battle, or than can 
possibly be had of such as are fought on a more extended ground, 
01" by detachments of troops acting on different places, and at dif- 
ferent times, and in some measure independently of each other. — 
When the British columns were advancing to the attack, the 
flames of Charleston, (fired as is generally supposed, by a shell,) 
began to ascend. The spectators, far outnumbering both armies, 
thronged and crowded on every height and every point which af- 
forded a view of the scene, themselves constituted a very impor- 
tant part of it. 



V. 



84 JOSEPH WARREN. 

"The troops of the two armies seemed like so many combatants 
in an amphi-theatre. — The manner in which they should acquit 
themselves, was to be judged of, not as in other cases of military 
engagements, by reports and future history, but by a vast and 
anxious assembly already on the spot, and waiting with unspeak- 
able concern and emotion, the progress of the day. 

"In other battles the recollection of wives and children has 
been used as an excitement to animate the warrior's breast and 
nerve his arm. Here was not a mere recollection, but an actual 
presence of them, and other dear connexions, hanging on the skirts 
of the battle, anxious and agitated, feeling almost as if wounded 
themselves by every blow of the enemy, and putting forth, as it 
were, their own strength, and all the energy of their own throb- 
bincr bosoms, into every gallant effort of their warring friends. 

"But there was a more comprehensive and vastly more impor- 
tant view of that day's contest than has been mentioned, — a view- 
indeed, which ordinary eyes, bent intently on what was immedi- 
ately before them, did not embrace, but which was perceived in 
its full extent and expansion, by minds of a higher order. Those 
men who were at the head of the colonial councils, who had been 
engaged for years in the previous stages of the quarrel with Eng- 
land, and who had been accustomed to look forward to the future, 
were well apprised of the magnitude of the events likely to hang 
on the business of that day. They saw in it not only a battle, but 
the beginning of a civil war, of unmeasured extent and uncertain 
issue. All America and all England were likely to be deeply con- 
cerned in the consequences. The individuals themselves, who 
knew full well what agency they had had, in bringing affairs to 
this crisis, had need of all their courage ; — not that disregard of 
personal safety, in which the vulgar suppose true courage to con- 
sist, but that high and fixed moral sentiment, that steady and de- 
cided purpose, which enables men to pursue a distant end, w ith a 
fall view of the difficulties and dang before them, and with a 
conviction that, before they arrive at the proposed end, should the} 
ever reach it, they must pass through evil report as well as gootl 
report, and be liable to obloquy, as w^ell as to defeat. 

"Spirits, that fear nothing else, fear disgrace ; and this danger 
is necessarily encountered by those who engage in civil war. — 



I 



JOSEPH WAHKEN. 85 

Unsuccessful resistance is not only ruin to its authors, but is es- 
teemed, and necessarily so, by the laws of all countries, treasona- 
ble. This is the case, at least till resistance becomes so general 
and formidable as to assume the form of regular war. But who 
can tell, when resistance commences, whether it will attain even 
to that degree of success ? Some of those persons who signed the 
declaration of independence in 1776, described themselves as 
signing it, 'as with halters about their necks.' If there were 
grounds for this remark in 1776, when the cause had become so 
much more general, how much greater was the hazard, when the 
battle of Bunker Hill was fought? 

"These considerations constituted, to enlarged and liberal minds, 
the moral sublimity of the occasion; while to the outward senses 
tlie movement of armies, the roar of artillery, the brilliancy of the 
reflection of a summer's sun from the burnished armour of the 
British columns, and the flames of a burning town, made up a 
scene of extraordinary grandeur. 

"This eminence has become sacred ground. It contains in its 
bosom the ashes of the brave who died fighting to defend their al- 
tars and their homes. Strangers from all countries visit this spot, 
for it is associated in their memories with Marathon and Plataea, 
and all the mighty struggles of determined freemen. Our citizens 
love to wander over this field — the aged to awake recollections, 
and the youthful to excite heroic emotions. The battle ground is 
now all plainly to be seen — the spirit of modern improvemetfit, 
which would stop the sti-eams of Helicon to turn a mill and cause 
to be felled the trees of Paradise to make a rafter, has yet spared 
this hallowed height. 

"If 'the days of chivalry be gone forever,' and the high and 
enthusiastic feelings of generosity and magnanimity be not so 
widely diflfused as in more heroic ages, yet it cannot be denied but 
that there have been, anjj still are, individuals whose bosoms are 
warmed with a spirit as gr -fing and ethereal as ever swelled the 
heart of 'mailed knight,' wlio, in the ecstacies of love, religion, 
and martial glory, joined the war-cry on the plains of Palestine, or 
proved his steel on the infidel foe. The history of every revolu- 
tion is interspersed with brilliant episodes of individual prowess. 
The pages of our own history, when fully written out, will spar- 
kle profusely with these gems of romantic valor. 



8(3 JOSEPH WARREN, 

"The calmness and indifference of the veteran 'in clouds of 
dust, and seas of blood,' can only be acquired by long acquain- 
tance with the trade of death ; but the heights of Charlestown 
will bear eternal testimony how suddenly, in the cause of free- 
dom, the peaceful citizen can become the invincible warrior — 
stung by oppression, he springs forward from his tranquil pursuits, 
undaunted by opposition, and undismayed by danger, to fight even 
to death for the defence of his rights. Parents, wives, children, 
and country, all the hallowed properties of existence, arc to him 
tiie talisman that takes fear from his heart, and nerves his arm to 
victory. In the requium over those who have fallen in the 
cause of their country, which 

" TVme with his own eternal lips shall sing^^ 
the praises of Warreiv shall be distinctly heard. The blood of 
those patriots who have fallen in the defence of republics, has of- 
ten "cried from the ground" against the ingratitude of the country 
for which it was shed. No monument was reared to their fame; 
no record of their virtues written ; no fostering hand extended to 
their oftspring — but they and their deeds were neglected and for- 
gotten. Toward Warren there was no ingratitude — our country 
is free from this stain. Congress were the guardians of his honor, 
and remembered that his children were unprotected orphans: — 
Within a year after his death congress passed the following resolu- 
tions: "That a monument be erected to the memory of general 
Warren, in the town of Boston, with the following inscription : 
In honor of 
JOSEPH WARREN, 
Major-General of Massachusetts Bay. 
He devoted his life to the liber- ^ 
ties of his country, and, in 
bravely defending them, 
fell an early vic- 
tim in the 

BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, 

June 17, 1775. 
The congress of the United States, 
as an acknowledgment of his ser- 
vices and distinguished 
merit, have erected 
this monument to 
his memory. 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 87 

"It was resolved, likewise, "that the eldest son of general War- 
ren should be educated, from that time, at the expense of the 
United States." On the 1st of July, 1780, congress recognising 
these former resolutions, further resolved, 'That it should be re- 
commended to the executive of Massachusetts Bay, to make pro- 
vision for the maintenance and education of his three younger 
children. And that congress would defray the expense to the 
amount of half-pay of a major-general, to commence at the time 
of his death, and continue till the youngest of the children should 
be of age." The part of the resolutions relating to the education 
of the children, was carried into effect accordingly. The monu- 
ment is not yet erected, but it is not too late. The shade of War- 
ren will not repine at this neglect, while the ashes of Washington 
repose without grave-stone or epitaph." — Biographical Sketches, 



NATHANIEL GREENE, 
Major-General in the American Army. 
Perhaps nothing more strikingly illustrates the excellence of 
free institutions, than the facilities afforded indigent merit of ris- 
ing by its own exertions to its proper station in the community. — 
It was this circumstance which enabled Nathaniel Greene, the son 
of an anchor maker, and a member of the society of Friends, to 
emerge from obscurity and become one of the most distinguished 
of that glorious band that achieved our national independence. 
Greenft was, in all respects, what is properly termed a "self-made 
man. " That is, he was his own instructor, and the founder of 
his own fame and fortune. 

He was the second son of Nathaniel Greene, and was born, 
1741, in the town of Warwick, county of Kent, Rhode Island. 

Being intended by his father, for the business which he himself 
pursued, young Greene received, at school, nothing but the ele- 
ments of a common English education. But to him, an education 
so limited, was unsatisfactory. With such funds as he was able 
to raise, he purchased a small, but well selected library, and spent 
his evenings, and all the time he could redeem from his father's 
business, in regular study. 

At a period of life, unusually early, Greene was elevated, by a 
very flattering suffrage, to a seat in the legislature of his native 



88 NATHANIEL GREENE, 

colony. This was the commencement of a public career, which, 
heightening as it advanced, and flourishing in the midst of diffi- 
culties, closed with a lustre that was peculiarly dazzling. 

Thus introduced into the councils of his country, at a time 
when the rights of the subject, and the powers of the ruler, were 
beginning to be topics of liberal discussion, he felt it his duty to 
avow his sentiments on the momentous question. Nor did he 
pause or waver, as to the principles he should adopt, and the de- 
cision he should form. He was inflexibly opposed to tyranny and 
oppression in every shape, and manfully avowed it. But his 
character, although forming, was not completely developed until 
the commencement of the troubles which terminated in our inde- 
pendence. It was then that he aspired to a lead in the public 
councils; and, throwing from him, as unsuitable to the times, the 
peaceful habits in which he had been educated, sternly declared 
for a redress of grievances, or open resistance. This open de- 
parture from the sectarian principles in which he had been edu- 
cated, was followed, of course, by his immediate dismissal from 
ihe society of Friends. 

The sword was earliest unsheathed in the colony of Massachu- 
setts ; and on the plains of Lexington and Concord, the blood of 
British soldiers, and American subjects, mingled first in hostile 
strife. Nor was Rhode Island, after that sanguinary afiair, be- 
hind her sister colonies, in gallantry of spirit and promptitude of 
preparation. 

Greene commenced his military pupilage in the capacity of a 
private soldier, in October, 1774, in a military association, com- 
manded by James M. Varnum, afterwards brigadier-general. 
But Rhode Island having in the month of May, 1775, raised three 
regiments of militia, she placed them under the command of 
Greene, who, without loss of time, conducted them to head quar- 
ters, in the village of Cambridge. 

On the 2d of July, 1775, general Washington, invested by con- 
gress with the command in chief of the armies of his country, 
arrived at Boston. Greene availed himself of an early opportu- 
nity amid the public demonstration of joy, to welcome the com- 
mander-in-chief, in a personal address, in which, with much 
warmth of feeling, and kindness of expression, he avowed his at- 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 89 

tachment to his person, and the high gratification he derived from 
the prospect of being associated with him in arms, and serving 
under him, in defence of the violated rights of his country. 

This was a happy prelude to a friendship between these two 
great and illustrious officers, which death alone had the power to 
dissolve. It is a fact of notoriety, that when time and acquain- 
tance had made him thoroughly acquainted witli the character of 
general Greene, Washington entertained and frequently expressed 
an anxious wish, that, in case of his death, he might be appointed 
his successor to the supreme command. 

During the investment of Boston, by the American forces, a 
state of things which lasted for months, no opportunity presented 
itself to Greene, to acquire distinction, by personal exploit. But his 
love of action, and spirit of adventure, were strongly manifested; 
for he was one of the few officers of rank, who concurred with 
general Washington, in the propriety of attempting to carry the 
town by assault. 

On the evacuation of Boston by the British, the American troops 
were permitted to repose from their toils, and to exchange, for a ' 
time, the hardships and privations of field encampment, for the en- 
joyment of plenty, in comfortable barracks. During this period of 
relaxation, Greene continued, with unabating industry, his military 
studies, and as far as opportunity served, his attention to the prac- 
tical duties of the field. This course, steadily pursued, under the 
immediate supervision of Washington, could scarcely fail to pro- 
cure rank, and lead to eminence. Accordingly, on the 2Gth 
of August, 1776, he was promoted, by congress, to the rank of ma- 
jor-general in the regular army. 

A crisis, most glowing and portentous to the cause of freedom 
had now arrived. In the retreat which now commenced, through 
New-Jersey, general Washington was accompanied by general 
Greene, and received from him all the aid, that, under circum- 
stances so dark and unpromising, talents, devotion, and firmness 
could aflford. Possessed alike of ardent temperament, hearts that 
neither danger nor misfortune could appal, and an inspiring trust 
in the righteousness of their cause, it belonged to the character of 
these two great and illustrious commanders, never for a moment 
to despair of their country. Hope and confidence, even now, 
9 



90 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

beamed from their countenances, and they encouraged their fol- 
lowers, and supported them under the pressure of defeat and mis- 
fortune. 

Greene was one of the coi^ncil of Washington, who resolved 
on the enterprise of the 26th of December, 1776, against the post 
of the enemjf at Trenton. The issue is known, and is glorious in 
our history. About one thousand Hessians, in killed, wounded, 
and prisoners, with their arms, field equipage, and artillery, were 
the trophies of that glorious morning, which opened on the friends 
of American freedom, with the day-star of hope. He was again 
of the council of the commander-in-chief, in planning the daring 
attack of the 2d of January, 1777, on the British garrison at Prince- 
ton, as well as his associate in achieving its execution. In both 
these brilliant actions, his gallantry, prudence, and skill, being a- 
like conspicuous, he received the applauses of his commander. 
He continued the associate and most confidential counsellor of 
Washington, through the gloomy and ominous period that followed. 
In the obstinate and bloody battle of Brandywine, general 
Greene, by his distinguished conduct added greatly to his former 
renown. In the course of it, a detachment of American troops, 
commanded by general Sullivan, being unexpectedly attacked by 
the enemy, retreated in disorder. General Greene, at the head 
of Weeden's Virginia brigade, flew to their support. On ap- 
proaching, he found the defeat of general Sullivan a perfect rout. 
Not a moment was to be lost. Throwing himself into the rear of 
his flying countrymen, and retreating slowly, he kept up, especial- 
ly from his cannon, so destructive a fire, as greatly to retard the 
advance of the enemy. Aiming at length at a narrow defile, se- 
cured on the right and left by thick woods, he halted, sent forward 
his cannon, that they might be out of danger, in case of his being 
compelled to a hasty retreat, and formed his troops, determined to 
dispute the pass with his small arms. This he effected with com- 
plete success, notwithstanding the vast superiority of the assail- 
ants; until after a conflict of more than an hour and a half, night 
came on, and brought it to a close. But for this quick-sighted in- 
terposition, Sullivan's detachment must have been nearly annihi- 
lated. 

On this occasion only, did the slightest misunderstanding ever 



NATIIAIflEL GREENE. 91 

occur between general Greene, ^nd the commander-in-chief. In 
his general orders after the battle, the latter neglected to bestow 
any special applause on Weeden's brigade. Against this, general 
Greene remonstrated in person. 

General Washington replied, "You, sir, are considered my fa- 
vorite officer. Weeden's brigade, like myself, are Virginians. 
Should I applaud them for their achievement under your com- 
mand, I shall be charged with partiality; jealousy will be excited, 
and the service injured." 

"Sir," exclaimed Greene, with considerable emotion, "I trust 
your excellency will do me the justice to believe that I am not 
selfish. In my own behalf, I have nothing to ask. Act towards 
mens 3"ou please; I shall not complain. However richly I prize 
your excellency's good opinion and applause, a consciousness that 
I have endeavored to do my duty, constitutes at present, my rich- 
est reward. But do not, sir, let me entreat you, on account of the 
jealousy that may arise in little minds, withhold justice from the 
brave fellows I had the honor to command." 

Convinced that prudence forbade the special notice requested, 
the commander-in-chief persisted in his silence. Greene, on cool 
reflection, appreciated the motives of his general, and lost no time 
in apologizing for his intemperate manner, if not for his expres- 
sions. — Delighted with his frankness and magnanimity, Washing- 
ton replied, with a smile, — "An officer, tried as you have been 
who errs but once in two years, deserves to be forgiven." — With 
that, he ofiered him his hand, and the matter terminated. 

Following general Greene in his military career, he next pre- 
sents himself on the plains of Germantown. In this daring as- 
sault, he commanded the left wing of the American army, and his 
utmost endeavors were used to retrieve the fortune of the day, in 
which his conduct met the approbation of the commander-in-chief. 
Lord Cornwallis, to whom he was often opposed, had the magna- 
nimity to bestow on him a lofty encomium. "Greene," said he, 
"is as dangerous as Washington. He is vigilant, enterprising, 
and full of resources. With but little hope of gaining any advan- 
tage over him, I never feel secure when encamped in his neighbor- 
hood." 

At this period, the quarter-master department in the American 



92 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

army, was in a veiy defective and-alarming condition^ and required 
a speedy and radical reform ; and general Washington declared, 
that such reform could be effected only by the appointment of a 
quarter-master-general, of great resources, well versed in busi- 
ness, and possessing practical talents of the first order. When 
requested by congress, to look out for such an officer, he, at once, 
fixed his eyes on general Greene. 

Washington well knew that the soul of Greene, was indissolu- 
bly wedded to the duties of the line. Notwithstanding this, he ex- 
pressed, in conversation with a member of congress, his entire 
persuasion, that if general Greene could be convinced of his abil- 
ity to render his country greater services in the quarter-master 
department, than in the field, he would at once accept the ap- 
pointment. "There is not," said he, "an officer of the army, nor 
a man in America, more sincerely attached to the interests of 
his country. Could he best promote their interests in the charac- 
ter of a corporal, he would exchange, as I firmly believe, without 
a znurmur, the epaulet for the knot. For although he is not with- 
out ambition, that ambition has not for its object, the highest rank 
so much as the greatest goodP 

When the appointment was first offered general Greene, he de- 
clined it, but after a conference with the commander-in-chief, he 
consented to an acceptance, on condition, that he should forfeit 
nothing of his right to command, in time of action. On these terms 
he received the appointment, on the22d of March, 1778, and en- 
tered immediately on the duties of the office. In this station he 
fully answered the expectations formed of his abilities, and ena- 
bled the American army to move with additional celerity and vigor. 
During his administration of the quarter-master department, he 
took, on two occasions, a high and distinguished part in the field; 
the first in the battle of Monmouth ; the second in a very brilliant 
expedition against the enemy in Rhode Island, under the com- 
mand of general Sullivan. At the battle of Monmouth, the com- 
mander-in-chief, disgusted with the behavior of general Lee, de- 
posed him on the field of battle, and appointed general Greene to 
command the right wing, where he greatly contributed to retrieve 
the errors of his predecessor, and to the subsequent events of 
the day. 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 93 

His return to his native state was hailed by the inhabitants, 
with general and lively demonstrations of joy. Even the leading 
members of the society of Friends, who had reluctantly excluded 
him from their communion, often visited him at his quarters, and 
expi'essed their sincere satisfaction at the elevation he had at- 
tained in the confidence of his country. One of these plain gentle- 
men being asked, in jest, by a young officer, how he, as an advo- 
cate of peace, could reconcile it to his conscience to keep so much 
company with general Greene, whose profession was war? — 
promptly replied, "Friend, it is not a suit of uniform that can ei- 
ther make or spoil a man. True, I do not approve of this many- 
colored apparel, (the officers' dress,) but whatever may be the 
form or color of his coat, Nathaniel Greene still retains the same 
sound head and virtuous heart that gained him the love and es- 
teem of our society." 

During the year 1779, general Greene was occupied exclusive- 
ly in the extensive concerns of the quarter-master department. 

About this time general Greene was called to the performance 
of a duty, the most trying and painful he had ever encountered. 
We allude to the melancholy affair of major Andre, adjutant-gen- 
eral to the British army, who was captured in disguise within the 
American lines. Washington detailed a court for his trial, com- 
posed of fourteen general officers, Lafayette and Steuben being 
two of the number, and appointed general Greene to preside. 

When summoned to his trial, Andre frankly disclosed without 
interrogatory, what bore heaviest on his own life, but inviolably 
concealed whatever might endanger the safety of others. His 
confessions were conclusive, and no witness was examined against 
him. The court were unanimous, that he had been taken as a 
spy, and must suffer death. Of this sentence he did not complain, 
but wished that he might be permitted to close a life of honor by 
a professional death, and not be compelled like a common felon, to 
expire on a gibbet. To effect this, he made, in a letter to general 
Washington, one of the most powerful and pathetic appeals that 
ever fell from the pen of a mortal. Staggered in his resolution, 
the commander-in-chief referred the subject, accompanied by the 
letter, to his general officers, who, with one exception, became 
unanimous in their desire that Andre should be shot. 
9* 



94 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

That exception was found in general Greene, the president of 
the court. "Andre," said he, "is either a spy or an innocent man. 
If the latter, to execute him, in any way, will be murder; if the 
former, the mode of his death is prescribed by law, and you have 
no right to alter it. Nor is this all. At the present alarming 
crisis of our affairs, the public safety calls for a solemn and im- 
pressive example. Nothing can satisfy it, short of the execution 
of the prisoner as a common spy ; a character of which his own 
confession has clearly convicted him. Beware how you suffer 
your feelings to triumph over your judgment. Besides, if you 
shoot the prisoner, instead of hanging him, you will excite suspi- 
cions which you will be unable to allay. Notwithstanding all your 
efforts to the contrary, you will awaken public compassion ; and 
the belief will become general, that in the case of major Andre 
there were exculpatory circumstances, entitling him to lenity 
beyond what he received — perhaps entitling him to pardon. — 
Hang him, therefore, or set him free." This reasoning being 
considered conclusive, the prisoner suffered as a common spy. 

We have now advanced to that period of the revolutionary war, 
in which the situation of Greene is about to experience an entire 
change. No longer acting in the vicinity, or subject to the imme- 
diate orders of a superior, we are to behold him, in future, removed 
to a distance, and virtually invested with the supreme command 
of a large section of the United States. 

Congress, dissatisfied with the loss of the southern army, re- 
solved that the conduct of general Gates be submitted to the ex- 
amination of a court of inquiry, and the commander-in-chief di- 
rected to appoint an officer to succeed him. * In compliance with 
the latter part of the resolution, general Washington, without hes- 
itation, offered the appointment to general Greene. In a letter to 
Congress, recommending the general support of that body, he 
made the most honorable mention of him, as "an officer in whose 
abilities, fortitude and integrity, from a long and intimate exper- 
ience of them, he had the most entire confidence." Writing to 
Mr. Mathews, a member from Charleston, he says, "You have 
your wish, in the officer appointed to the southern command. I 
ihink I am giving you a general ; but what can a general do with- 
out arms, without clothing, without stores, without provisions ?" 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 95 

General Greene ai-rived at Charlotte, the head-quarters of gen- 
eral Gates, Dec. 2d, 1780, and in entering on the duties of his 
command, he found himself in a situation that was fearfully em- 
barrassing. His army, consisting mostly of militia, amounted to 
less than two thousand men, and he found on hand but three days' 
provision, and a very defective supply of ammunition. In front 
was an enemy, proud in victory, and too strong to be encountered. 
With such means, and under such circumstances, to recover two 
states, already conquered, and protect a third, constituted a task 
that was almost hopeless. 

It was not merely to meet an enemy in the field, to command skil- 
fully, and fight bravely, either in proffered or accepted battle. — 
These operations depend on mere professional qualifications, that 
can be readily acquired by moderate capacities. But to raise 
and provide for an army in a dispirited and devastated country, 
creating resources where they do not exist; to operate with an im- 
competent force on an extended and broken line of frontier; to 
hold in check, in many points, and to avoid coming into contact in 
any, with an enemy superior in numbers and discipline ; — to con- 
duct a scheme of warfare like this, and such, precisely, was that 
which tested the abilities of general Greene, requires a genius of 
the highest order, combined with indefatigable industry and skill. 

Preparatory to the commencement of the campaign, Greene's 
first care was to prepare for his troops, subsistence and ammuni- 
tion; and in effecting this, he derived great aid from his personal 
experience in the business of the commissary and quarter-master's 
departments. This qualification for such a diversity of duties, 
presented him to his troops in the two-fold relation of their suppor- 
ter and commander. Much of the moral strength of an army 
consists in a confidence in its leader, an attachment to his person, 
and a spirit of subordination, founded on principle. To puch an 
extent was this true, that even the common soldiery, sensible of 
the superintendence of a superior intellect, predicted confidently 
a change of fortune. Their defeat at Camden was soon forgoti en 
by them, in their anticipations of future victory. They fancied 
themselves ready once more to take the field, and felt a solicitude 
to regain their lost reputation, and signalize their prowess in pres- 
ence of their new and beloved commander. 



96 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

But, notwithstanding the spirit and confidence of his troops, 
Greene found himself unable to meet the enemy in the field. — 
With Washington in his eye, and his own genius to devise his 
measures, he resolved on cautious movements and protracted war. 
Yet, to sustain the spirit of the country, it was necessary that he 
should not altogether shun his enemy; but watching and confron- 
ting his scouts and foraging parties, fight, cripple, and beat him in 
detail : and in all his movements, it was necessary for him to main- 
tain a communication with Virginia, from which he was to receive 
supplies of provisions, munitions and men. 

General Greene's first movement from the village of Charlotte, 
was productive of the happiest effect. In the month of Decem- 
ber he marched, with his main army, to the Cheraw Hills, about 
seventy miles to the right of lord Cornwallis, despatching, at the 
same time, general Morgan, with four hundred continentals under 
colonel Howard, colonel Washington's corps of dragoons, and a 
few militia, amounting in all to six hundred, to take a position on 
the British left, distant from them about fifty miles. 

This judicious disposition, which formed a rallying point for the 
friends of independence, both in the east and west, and facilitated 
the procurement of provisions for the troops, excited his lordship's 
apprehensions for the safety of Ninety-six and Augusta, British 
posts, which he considered as menaced by the movements of Mor- 
gan; and gave rise to a train of movements which terminated in 
the celebrated battle of the Cowpens. 

Cornwallis, immediately on learning the movements of Greene, 
despatched col. Tarlton with a strong detachment, amounting, in 
horse and foot, to near a thousand, for the protection of Ninety-Six, 
with orders to bring general Morgan, if possible, to battle. — 
Greatly superior in numbers, he advanced on Morgan with a men- 
acing aspect, and compelled him, at first, to fall back rapidly. But 
this was not long continued. Glorying in action, and relying with 
great confidence in the spirit and firmness of his regular troops, 
Morgan halted at the Cowpens, and prepared to give his adversa- 
ry battle. The opportunity was eagerly seized by Tarlton. An 
engagement was the immediate consequence, and a complete vic- 
tory was obtained by the Americans. Upwards of five hundred 
of the British laid down their arms, and were made prisoners, and 



NATHANIEl GREENE. 97 

a very considerable number M-ere killed. Eight hundred stands 
of arms, two field pieces, and thirty-five baggage wagons fell to 
the victors, who had only twelve killed and sixty wounded. 

The victory of the Cowpens, although achieved under the im- 
mediate command of Morgan, was the first stroke of general 
Greene's policy, in the south, and augured favorably of his fu- 
ture career. It led to one of the most arduous, ably-conducted, 
and memorable operations, that occurred in the course of the re- 
volutionary war — the retreat of Greene, and the pursuit of Corn- 
wallis, during the inclemencies of winter, a distance of 230 miles. 
Galled in his pride, and crippled in his schemes, by the over- 
tlirow of Tarlton, lord Cornwallis resolved, by a series of prompt 
and vigorous measures, to avenge the injury and retrieve the loss 
which the royal arms had sustained at the Cowpens. His medi- 
tated operations, for this purpose, were, to advance rapidly on Mor- 
gan, retake his prisoners, and destroy his force ; to maintain an in- 
termediate position, and prevent his union with general Greene ; 
or, in case of the junction of the two armies, to cut off their re- 
treat towards Virginia, and force them to action. 

But general Greene, no less vigilant and provident than him- 
self, informed, by express, of the defeat of Tarlton, instantly per- 
ceived the object of his lordship, and ordering his troops to pro- 
ceed under general Huger, to Salisbury, where he meditated a 
junction with Morgan's detachment, he himself, escorted by a few 
dragoons, set out for the head-quarters of that officer, and joined 
him shortly after. 

Cornwallis, having committed to the flames his heavy baggage, 
and reduced his army to the condition of light troops, dashed tc- 
Avards Morgan. And here commenced the retreat of general 
Greene, in the course of which he displayed such resources, and 
gained, in the end, such lasting renown. Sensible of the im- 
mense prize for which he was contending, he tasked his genius to 
the uttermost. On the issue of the struggle was staked, not mere- 
ly the lives of a few brave men; not alone the existence of the 
Mhole army; but the fate of the south and the integrity of the 
Union. But his genius was equal to the crisis. By the most mas- 
terly movements, Greene effected a junction of the two divisions 
of his little armv. 



98 NATHAMEL GREENE. 

To his great mortification, lord Cornwallis now perceived that 
in two of his objects, the destruction of Morgan''s detachment, and 
the pi'eventioH of its union with the main division, he was com- 
pletely frustrated by the activity of Greene. But to cut off the 
retreat of the Americans into Virginia, after their union, and to 
compel them to action, was still, perhaps, practicable ; and to the 
achievement of this, he now directed his undivided energies. 

The genius of Greene, however, did not desert him on this try- 
ing occasion. Self-collected, and adapting his conduct to the na* 
lure of the crisis, his firmness grew with the increase of danger; 
and the measure of his greatness was, the extent of the difficulties 
he was called to encounter. Notwithstanding the vigilance and 
activity of his enemy, he brought his men in safety into Virginia; 
and to crown the whole, no loss was sustained by him, either in 
men^ munitions, artillery, or any thing that enters into the equip- 
ment of an army. Frustrated thus in all his purposes, lord Corn- 
wallis, although the pursuing party, must be acknowledged to have 
been completely vanquished. Victory is the successful issue of a 
struggle for superiority. Military leaders contend for different 
objects; to vanquish their enemies in open conflict; to attack and 
overthrow Ihem by stratagem and surprise ; to exhaust their re- 
"sources by delay of action; or to elude them in retreat, until, 
strengthened by reinforcements, they may be able to turn and 
meet them in the field. Of this last description was the victory 
of Greene, in his memorable retreat. 

In Virginia, general Greene received some reinforcemeets, and 
had the promise of more ; on which he returned again into North 
Carolina, where, on their arrival, he hoped to be able to act on 
the offensive. He encamped in the vicinity of lord Cornwallis's 
army. By a variety of the best concerted manoeuvres, he so judi- 
ciously supported the arrangement of his troops, by the secrecy 
and promptitude of his motions, that during three weeks, while the 
enemy remained near him, he prevented them from taking any 
advantage of their superiority, and even cut off all opportunity 
of their receiving succors from the royalists. 

About the beginning of March, he effected a junction with a 
continental regiment, and two considerable bodies of Virginia and 
Carolina militia. He then determined on attacking the British 



NATHAJVIEL GREENE. 99 

commander, without loss of time, "being persuaded," as he de- 
clared in his subsequent despatches, "that, if he was successful, it 
would prove ruinous to the enemy ; and if otherwise, that it would 
be but a partial evil to him." On the 14th, he arrived at Guilford 
Court-house, the British then lying at twelve miles distance. 

His army consisted of about four thousand five hundred men, of 
whom near two-thirds were North Carolina and Virginia militia. 
The British were about two thousand four hundred, all regular 
troops, and the greater part inured to toil and service in their long 
expedition under lord Cornwallis, who, on the morning of the 15th, 
being apprised of general Greene's intentions, marched to meet 
him. The latter disposed his army in three lines : the militia of 
North Carolina were in front ; the second line was composed of 
those of Virginia; and the third, which was the flower of the army, 
was formed of continental troops, near fifteen hundred in number. 
They were flanked on both sides by cavalry and riflemen, and 
■ were posted on a rising ground, a mile and a half from Guilford 
Court-house. 

The engagement commenced at half an hour after one o'clock, 
by a brisk cannonade ; after which the British advanced in three 
columns, and attacked the first line, composed of North Carolina 
militia. These, who probably had never been in action before, 
were panic-struck at the approach of the enemy, and many of 
them ran away without firing a gun, or being fiii'ed upon, and even 
before the British had come nearer than one hundred and forty 
yards to them. Part of them, however, fired; but they then fol- 
lowed the example of their comrades. Their officers made every 
possible effort to rally them; but the advantages of their position, 
nor any other consideration, could induce them to maintain their 
ground. This shameful conduct had a great effect upon the issue 
of the battle. The next line, however, behaved much better: they 
fought with great bravery, and were thrown into disorder; rallied, 
returned to the charge, and kept up a heavy fire for a long time ; 
but were at length bx'oken, and driven on the third line ; when the 
engagement became general, very severe, and very bloody. At 
length, superiority of discipline carried the day from superiority 
of numbers. The conflict endured an hour and a half, and was 
terminated by general Greene's ordering a retreat, when he per. 



100 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

ceived that ttie enemy were on the point of encircling his troops. 
This was a hard-fought action, and ^the exertions of the two rival 
generals, both in preparing for this action, and during the course 
of it, were never surpassed. Forgetful of every thing but the for- 
tune of the day, they on several occasions mingled in the danger, 
like common soldiers. The loss sustained by the Americans, in 
this battle, amounted in killed and wounded to only about 400; 
while in its effect upon the enemy it was murderous ; nearly one 
third of them, including many officers of distinction, were killed 
and wounded. 

The result of this conflict, although technically a defeat, was 
virtually a victory on the part of general Greene. In its relation 
to his adversary, it placed him on higher ground than he had pre- 
viously occupied; enabling him immediately afterwards, instead 
of retreating, to become the pursuing party. This is evinced by 
his conduct soon after the action. Not doubting that lord Corn- 
wallis would follow him, he retreated slowly, and in good order, 
from the field of battle, until attaining, at the distance of a few 
miles, an advantageous position, he again drew up his forces, de- 
termined to renew the contest on the arrival of his enemy. But 
his lordship was in no condition to pursue. Having by past expe- 
rience, not to be forgotten, learnt that his adversary was an Ulysses 
in wisdom, he now perceived that he was an Ajax in strength. 
Alike expert in every mode of warfare, and not to be van- 
quished either by stratagem or force, he found him too formidable 
to be again approached. Influenced by these sentiments, lord 
Cornwallis, instead of pursuing his foe, or even maintaining his 
ground, commenced his retreat, leaving behind him about seventy 
of his wounded, whom he [recommended, in a letter written by 
himself, to the humanity and attention of the American chief. 

Had general Greene been in a situation to pursue his lordship 
as soon as he commenced his retreat, the destruction of that officer 
and his army would have been inevitable. Some spot on the 
plains of Carolina would have witnessed the surrender that was 
reserved for Virginia; and the hero of the south would have won 
the laurels which, shortly afterwards, decorated the brow of the 
hero of the nation. But Greene's military stores were so far ex- 
pended, that he could not pursue until he received a supply; and 



NATHAMEL GREENE. 101 

the delay, thus occasioned, gave time to the British commander 
to effect his escape. 

Having received his supplies, Greene immediately pursued the 
enemy; but the advanced position of lord Cornwallis, and the im- 
practicable condition of the roads, frustrated every exertion that 
general Greene could make to compel the enemy to a second en- 
gagement. — Convinced of this, he halted to indulge his troops in 
that refreshment and repose which they so much needed. 

Were we to indicate the period in the life of general. Greene, 
most strongly marked by the operations, and irradiated by the 
genius of a great commander, we would without hesitation, select 
that which extends from the commencement of his retreat before 
Cornwallis, to the termination of his pursuit of him at this time. 
Perhaps a brighter era does not adorn the military career of any 
leader. It was in the course of it that he turned the current of 
adverse fortune consequent on the defeat of Gates, which he af- 
terwards directed with such certain aim and irresistible force, as 
to keep the enemy from his numerous strong holds in the southern 
department, and contributed so pre-eminently to the speedy and fe- 
licitous issue of the war. 

Having abandoned the pursuit of the British army, the general 
again found himself encircled with difficulties. Of the southern 
department of the union, over which Greene's command extended, 
the enemy was in force in three large and important sections. 
Georgia and South Carolina were entirely in their possession ; 
lord Cornwallis had taken post in the maritime district of North 
Carolina, and part of Virginia was occupied by a powerful detach- 
ment of British troops, under the command of general Philips. 
At a loss to determine in which of these points he should act in 
person, he consulted his officers, and found them greatly divided 
in opinion. He, however, resolved, in accordance to the views 
of colonel Lee, that, leaving his lordship, whose object evidently 
was the invasion of Virginia, to be met by the energies of that 
state, with such assistance as might arrive from the north, he should 
penetrate South Carolina, his army divided into two columns, at- 
tack and beat the enemy at their different posts, without permit- 
ting them to concentrate their forces, and thus recover that rich 

and important member of the union. 
10 



102 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

An officer who had distinguished himself in the late action, 
not satisfied with the proposed plan of operations, asked general 
Greene by way of remonstrance, — "What will you do, sir, in case 
lord Cornwallis throws himself in your rear, and cuts off your 
communication with Virginia?" — "I will punish his temerity," 
replied the general, with great pleasantness, "by ordering you to 
charge him as you did at the battle of Guilford. But never fear, 
sir; his lordship has too much good sense ever again to risque his 
safety so far from the seaboard. He has just escaped ruin, and 
he knows it, and I am greatly mistaken in his character as an of- 
ficer, if he has not the capacity to profit by experience. 

On the seventh of April, general Greene broke up his encamp- 
ment, and with the main column of his army, moving to the south, 
took position on Hobkirk's Hill, in front of Camden, the head-quar- 
ters of lord Rawdon, now the commander-in-chief of the British 
forces in the south. 

"The strength of the British position, which was covered on the 
south and east side by a river and creek; and to the westward and 
northward, by six redoubts ; rendered it impracticable to carry it by 
storm, with the small army Greene had, consisting of about seven 
hundred continentals, the militia having gone home. He, there- 
fore, encamped at about a mile from the town, in order to prevent 
supplies from being brought in, and to take advantage of such 
favorable circumstances as might occur. 

Lord Rawdon's situation was extremely delicate. Colonel 
Watson, whom he had sometime before detached, for the protec- 
tion of the eastern frontiers, and to whom he had, on intelligence 
of general Greene's intentions, sent orders to return to Camden, 
was so effectually watched by general Marion, that it was impos- 
sible for him to obey. His lordship's supplies were, moreover, 
very precarious ; and should general Greene's reinforcements ar- 
rive, he might be so closely invested, as to be at length obliged to 
surrender. In this dilemma, the best expedient that suggested it- 
self, was a bold attack ; for which purpose, he armed every person 
with him capable of carrying a niusket, not excepting his musici- 
ans and drummers. He sallied out on the 25th of April, and at- 
tacked general Greene in his camp. The defence was obstinate ; 
and for some part of the engagement the advantage appeared to 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 103 

be in favor of America. Lieutenant-colonel Washington, who 
commanded the cavalry, had at one time not less than two hundred 
British prisoners. However, by the misconduct of one of the 
American regiments, victory was snatched from general Greene, 
who was compelled to retreat. He lost in the action about two 
hundred killed, wounded, and prisoners. Rawdon lost about two 
hundred and fifty -eight. 

There was a great similarity between the consequences of the 
affair at Guilford, and those of this action. In the former, lord 
Gornwallis was successful ; but was afterwards obliged to retreat 
two hundred miles from the scene of action, and for a time aban- 
doned the grand project of penetrating to the northward. In the 
latter, lord Rawdon had the honor of the field; but was shortly af- 
ter reduced to the necessity of abandoning his post, and leaving 
behind him a number of sick and wounded. 

The evacuation of Camden, with the vigilance of general 
Greene, and the several officers he employed, gave a new com- 
plexion to affairs in South Carolina, where the British ascendancy 
declined more rapidly than it had been established. The nume- 
rous forts, garrisoned by the enemy, fell, one after tlie other, into 
the hands of the Americans. Orangeburg, Motte, Watson, George- 
town, Grandy, and others. Fort Ninety-Six excepted, were surren- 
dered; and a very considerable number of prisoners of war, with 
military stores and artillery, were found in them. 

On the 22d May, general Greene sat down before Ninety-Six, 
with the main part of his little army. The siege was carried on 
for a considerable time with great spirit; and the place was defen- 
ded with equal bravery. At length, the works were so far redu- 
ced, that a surrender must have been made in a few days, when a 
reinforcement of three regiments, from Europe, arrived at Charles- 
ton, which enabled lord Rawdon to proceed to relieve this import- 
ant post. The superiority of the enemy's force reduced general 
Greene to the alternative of abandoning the siege altogether, or, 
previous to their arrival, of attempting the fort by storm. The 
latter was most agreeable to his enterprising spirit ; and an attack 
was made, on the morning of the 19th of June. He was repulsed 
with the loss of one hundred and fifty men. He raised the siege 
and retreated over the Saluda. 



104 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

Dr. Ramsay, speaking of the state of affairs about this periodj 
says, "trul)', distressing was the situation of the American army; 
when in the grasp of victory, to be obliged to expose themselves 
to a hazardous assault, and afterwards to abandon a siege. When 
they were nearly masters of the whole country, to be compelled 
to retreat to its extremity ; and after subduing the greatest part of 
the force sent against them, to be under the necessity of encoun- 
tering still greater reinforcements, when their remote situation 
precluded them from the hope of receiving a single recruit. In 
this gloomy situation, there were not wanting persons who advised 
general Greene to leave the state, and retire with his remaining 
forces to Virginia. To arguments and suggestions of this kind he 
nobly replied, "I will recover the country, or die in the attempt." 
This distinguished officer, whose genius was most vigorous in 
those extremities, when feeble minds abandon themselves to des- 
pair, adopted the only resource now left him, of avoiding an en- 
gagement, until the British force should be divided." 

Greene, having, without loss, made good his passage over the ri- 
vers in front, lord Rawdon, perceiving the futility of any further 
attempt to overtake him, abandoned the pursuit, and retreating to 
Ninety-Six, prepared for its evacuation. Thus did the policy of 
Greene, which is moral strength, compel the surrender of that for- 
tress, although from a want of physical strength, he failed to cany 
it by the sword. 

No sooner had lord Rawdon commenced his retrograde move- 
ments towards Ninety-Six, than general Greene changed his front 
and moved in the same direction. On the breaking up of the 
garrison of Ninety-Six, and the return of lord Rawdon towards 
Charleston, which immediately ensued, the British army moved 
in two columns, at a considerable distance from each other. It 
was then that general Greene became, in reality, the pursuing 
party, exceedingly anxious to bring the enemy to battle. But this 
he was unable to accomplish until September. 

"September the 9th, general Greene, having assembled about 
two thousand men, proceeded to attack the British, who, under 
the command of colonel Stewart, were posted at Eutaw Springs. 
The American force was drawn up in two lines; the first com- 
posed of Carolina militia, was commanded by generals Marion 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 105 

and Pickens, and colonel de Malmedy. The second, which con- 
sisted of continental troops, from North Carolina, Virginia, and 
Maryland, was commanded by general Sumpter, lieutenant-colo- 
nel Campbell, and colonel Williams; lieutenant-colonel Lee, with 
his legion, covered the right flank; and lieutenant-colonel Hen- 
derson, with the state troops, covered the left. A corps de reserve 
was formed of the cavalry, under lieutenant-colonel Washington, 
and the Delaware troops under captain Kirkwood. As the Amer- 
icans came forward to the attack, they fell in withsome advanced 
parties of the enemy, at about two or three miles a-head of the 
main body. These being closely pursued, were driven back, and 
the action soon became general. The militia were at length for- 
ced to give way, but were bravely supported by the second line. 
In the hottest part of the engagement, general Greene ordered the 
Maryland and Virginia continentals to charge with trailed arms. 
This decided the fate of the day. "Nothing," says Dr. Ramsay, 
"could surpass the intrepidity of both officers and men on this oc- 
casion. They rushed on in good order through a heavy cannon- 
ade and a shower of musquetry, with such unshaken resolution, 
that they bore down all before them." The British were broken, 
closely pursued, and upwards of 500 of them taken prisoners. 
They, however, made a fresh stand in a favorable position, in im- 
penetrable shrubs and a picquetted garden. Lieutenant-colonel 
Washington, after having made every effort to dislodge them, was 
wounded and taken prisoner. Four six pounders were brought 
forward to play upon them, but they fell into their hands ; and the 
endeavors to bring them from their station, being found impractica- 
ble, the Americans retired, leaving a very strong picquet on the 
field of battle. Their loss was about five hundred; that of the 
British upwards of eleven hundred. General Greene was honored 
by congress with a British standard, and a gold medal, emblemati- 
cal of the engagement, 'for his wise, decisive, and magnanimous 
conduct in the action at Eutaw Springs, in which, with a force infe- 
rior in number to that of the enemy ,he obtained a most signalvictory .' 
In the evening of the succeeding day colonel Stewart abandoned 
his post, and retreated towards Charleston, leaving behind up- 
wards of seventy of his wounded and a thousand stand of arms. 
He was pursued a considerable distance, but in vain, 
10* 



106 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

In Dr. Caldwell's memoirs of the life of general Greene, we 
have the following interesting story as connected with the severe 
conflict at Eutaw Springs : 

"Two young officers, bearing the same rank, met in personal 
combat. The American, perceiving that the Briton had a decided 
superiority in the use of the sabre, and being himselfof great ac- 
tivity and personal strength, almost gigantic, closed with his ad- 
versary and made him his prisoner. Gentlemanly, generous, and . 
high minded, this event, added to a personal resemblance which 
they were observed to bear to each other, produced between these 
two youthful warriors, an intimacy, which increased in a short 
time to a mutual attachment. Not long after the action, the Amer- 
ican officer returning home on furlough, to settle some private bu- 
siness, obtained permission for his friend to accompany him. — 
Travelling without attendants or guard, they were both armed 
and well mounted. Part of their route lay through a settlement 
highly disaffected to the American cause. When in the midst of 
this, having, in consequence of a shower of rain, thrown around 
them their cloaks, which concealed their uniforms, they were sud- 
denly encountered by a detachment of tories. The young Amer- 
ican, determined to die rather than become a prisoner, especially 
to men whom he held in abhorrence for disloyalty to their country, 
and the generous Briton resolved not to survive one by whom he 
had been distinguished and treated so kindly ; they both together, 
with great spirit and self possession, charged the royalists, having 
first made signals in their rear, as if directing others to follow 
tliem, and thus, without injury on either side, had the address 
and good fortune to put the party to flight. Arriving in safety at 
their place of destination, what was their surprise and augmented 
satisfaction, on finding, from some questions proposed by the Amer- 
ican officer's father, that they were first cousins ! With increas- 
ing delight, the young Briton passed several weeks in the family 
of his kinsman, where the writer of this narrative saw him daily, 
and often listened with the rapture of a child, to the checkered 
story of his military adventures. To heighten the occurrence 
and render it more romantic, the American officer had a sister, 
beautiful and accomplished, whose heart soon felt for the gallant 
stranger, more than the affection due to a cousin. The attach- 



NATHANIEL GREENE, 107 

ment was mutual. But here the adventure assumes a tragical cast. 
The youthful foreigner, being exchanged, was summoned to re- 
turn to his regiment. The message was fatal to his peace. But 
military honor demanded the sacrifice ; and the lady, generous 
and high-minded as himself, would not be instrumental in dim- 
ming his laurels. The parting scene was a high-wrought picture 
of tenderness and sorrow. On taking leave, the parties mutually 
bound themselves, by a solemn promise, to remain single a cer- 
tain number of years, in the hope that an arrangement contem- 
plated might again bring them together. A few weeks afterwards, 
the lady expired under an attack of small pox. The fate of the 
officer we never learnt." 

Judge Johnson in his life of general Greene, says — "At the bat- 
tle of the Eutaw Springs, Greene says "thathundredsof my men 
were naked as they were born." Posterity will scarcely believe 
that the bare loins of many brave men who carried death into the 
enemy's ranks, at the Eutaw, were galled by their cartouch boxes, 
while a folded rag or a tuft of moss protected the shoulders from 
sustaining the same injury from the musket. Men of other times 
will enquire, by what magic was the army kept together? By 
what supernatural power was it made to fight ?" 

General Greene in his letters to the secretary at war, says — 
"We have three hundred men without arms, and more than one 
thousand so naked that they can be put on duty only in cases of a 
desperate nature." Again he says — "Our difficulties are so nu- 
merous, and our wants so pressing, that I have not a moment's re- 
lief from the most painful anxieties, I have more embarrass- 
ments than it is proper to disclose to the world. Let it suffice to say 
that this part of the United States has had a narrow escape, / 
have been seven months in the field loiihout taking off my clothes.'''' 
The battle of the Eutaw Springs being terminated, general 
Greene ordered the light troops under Lee and Marion, to march 
circuitously, and gain a position in the British rear. But the Brit- 
ish leader was so prompt in his measures, and so precipitate in his 
movements, that leaving his sick and wounded behind him, he 
made good his retreat. The only injury he received in his flight, 
was from Lee and Marion, who cut off part of his rear guard, 
galled his flanks, killed several, and made a number of prisoners.' 



108 NATHANIEL GREENE. 

Such was the issue of the battle of Eutaw. Like that of every 
other fought by general Greene, it manifested in him judgment 
and sagacity of the highest order. Although he was repeatedly 
forced from the field, it may be truly said of that officer, that he 
never lost an action — the consequences, at least, being always in 
his favor. In no instance did he fail to reduce his enemy to a 
condition, relatively much worse than that in which he met him: 
his own condition of course being relatively improved. 

The battle of the Eutaw Springs, was the last essay in arms in 
which it was the fortune of general Greene to command, and was 
succeeded by the abandonment of the whole of South Carolina by 
the enemy, except Charleston. During the relaxation that fol- 
lowed, a dangerous plot was formed, by some mutinous persons of 
the army, to deliver up their brave general to the British. The 
plot was discovered and defeated; the ring-leader apprehended, 
tried and shot, and twelve of the most guilty of his associates de- 
serted to the enemy. To the honor of the American character, 
no native of the country was known to be concerned in this conspi- 
racy. Foreigners alone were its projectors and abettors. 

The surrender of lord Cornwallis, whose enterprising; spirit had 
been by the British ministry, expected to repair the losses and 
wipe away the disgrace which had been incurred through the in- 
activity and indolence of other generals, having convinced them of 
the impracticability of subjugating America, they discontinued 
offensive operations in every quarter. The happy period at length 
arrived, when by the virtue and bravery of her sons, aided by the 
bounty of heaven, America compelled her invaders to acknowl- 
edge her independence. Then her armies quitted the tented field 
and retired to cultivate the arts of peace and happiness. — General 
Greene immediately withdrew from the south, and returned to the 
bosom of his native state. The reception he there experienced, 
was cordial and joyous. The authorities welcomed him home 
with congratulatory addresses, and the chief men of the place 
waited upon him at his dwelling, eager to testify their gratitude 
for his services, their admiration of his talents and virtues, and 
the pride with which they recognized him as a native of Rhode 
Island. 
On the close of the war, the three southern states that h^ad been 



NATHANIEL GREENE. 109 

the most essentially benefitted by his wisdom and valor, manifested, 
at once, their sense of justice and their gratitude to general Greene, 
by liberal donations. South Carolina presented him with an es- 
tate, valued at ten thousand pounds sterling; Georgia, with an es- 
tate, a few miles from the city of Savannah, worth five thousand 
pounds ; and North Carolina, with twenty -five thousand acres of 
land in the state of Tennessee. 

Having spent about two years in his native state in the adjust- 
ment of his private affairs, he sailed for Georgia, in October, 1785, 
and settled with his family, on his estate near Savannah. En- 
gaging here in agricultural pursuits, he employed himself closely 
in arrangements for planting, exhibiting the fairest promise to be- 
come as eminent in the pi-actice of the peaceful virtues, as he had 
already shown himself in the occupations of war. 

But it was the will of heaven, that in this new sphere of action, 
his course should be limited. The short period of seven months 
was destined to witness its commencement and its close. Walk- 
ing over his grounds, as was his custom, without his hat, on the 
afternoon of the 15th of June, 1786, the day being intensely hot, 
he was suddenly attacked with such a vertigo and prostration of 
strength, as to be unable to return to his house without assistance. 
The affection was what is denominated a "stroke of the sun." It 
was succeeded by fever, accompanied with stupor, delirium, and 
disordered stomach. All efforts to subdue it proving fruitless, it 
terminated fatally on the 19th of the month. 

Intelligence of the event being conveyed to Savannah, but one 
feeling pervaded the place : sorrow was universal, and the whole 
town instinctively assumed the aspect of mourning. All business 
was suspended ; the dwelling houses, stores and shops were closed, 
and the shipping in the harbor half-masted their colors. On the 
following day, the body of the deceased, being conveyed to the 
town at the request of the inhabitants, was interred in a private 
cemetery, with military honors ; the magistrates of the place, and 
other public officers, the society of the Cincinnati, and the citizens 
generally, joining in the procession. General Greene left behind 
him a wife and five children. 

On the 12th of August, of the year in which the general died, 
the congress of the United States unanimously resolved, "That a 



no NATHANIEL GREENE. 

monument be erected to the memory of the honorable Nathaniel 

Greene, at the seat of the federal government, with the following 

inscription : 

Sacred to the memory of the 
HON. NATHANIEL GREENE, 

who departed this life the 19th of June, 1786; . 

late major-general in the service of the United States, 

and commander of the army in the 

southern department. 

The United States, in congress assembled, 

in honor of his patriotism, valor, and ability, 

have erected this monument." 

To the disgrace of the nation, no monument has been erected; 
nor, for the want of a head-stone, can any one at present designate 
tlie spot, where the relics of the hero of the south lie interred! 

In estimating the military character of general Greene, facts 
authorise the inference, that he possessed a genius adapted by 
nature to military command. After resorting to arms, his attain- 
ment to rank was much more rapid than that of any other officer 
our country has produced; perhaps the most rapid that history 
records. These offices, so high in responsibility and honor, were 
conferred on him, not as matters of personal favor, or family in- 
Siuence, nor yet through the instrumentality of political intrigue : 
they were the rewards of pre-eminent merit,-and tokens of recog- 
nized fitness for the highest functions of military service. It is 
said, that on his very first appearance in the camp at Cambridge, 
from the ardor of his zeal, unremitted activity, and strict attention 
to every duty, he was pronounced, by soldiers of distinction, a 
man of real military genius, 

"His knowledge," said general Knox to a distinguished citizen 
of South Carolina, "is intuitive. He came to us the rawest and 
most untutored being I ever met with; but in less than twelve 
months, he was equal in military knowledge to any general officer 
in the army, and very superior to most of them." Even the ene- 
my he conquered, did homage to his pre-eminent talents for war. 
Tarlton, who had strong ground to know him, is reported to have 
pronounced him, on a public occasion, the most able and accom- 
plished commander that America had produced. 

When acting under the orders of others, he never failed to dis- 
charge to their satisfaction, the duties entrusted to him, however 



HORATIO GATES. Ill 

arduous. But it is the southern department of the union, that 
constitutes the theatre of his achievements and fame. It was 
there, where his views were unshackled, and his genius free, that 
by performing the part of a great captain, he erected for himself 
a monument of reputation, durable as history, lofty as victory and 
conquest could render it, and brightened by all that glory could 
bestow. In compliment to his brilliant successes, the chivalric 
de la Luzerne, the minister of France, who, as knight of Malta, 
must be considered as a competent judge of military merit, thus 
speaks of him: — "Other generals subdue their enemies by the 
means with which their country or their sovereign furnished them ; 
but Greene appears to subdue his enemies by his own means. 
He commenced his campaign without either an army, provisions, 
or military stores. He has asked for nothing since; and yet 
scarcely a post arrives from the south, that does not bring intelli- 
gence of some new advantage gained over his foe. He conquers 
by magic. History furnishes no parallel to this." 



HORATIO GATES, 
Major-General in the American Army. 
General Gates was. a native of England, and was born iij 
the year 1728. He was educated to the military profession and 
entered the British army at an early age, in the capacity of lieu- 
tenant, where he laid the foundation of his future military excel- 
lence. Without purchase, he obtained the rank of major. He 
was aid to general Monckton at the capture of Martinico, and 
after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, he was among the first troops 
which landed at Halifax under general Cornwallis. He was an 
officer in the army which accompanied the unfortunate Braddock 
in the expedition against Fort du Quesne, in the year 1755, and 
was shot through the body. 

When peace was concluded, he purchased an estate in Virginia, 
where he resided until the commencement of the American war, 
in 1775. Having evinced his zeal and attachment to the violated 
rights of his adopted country, and sustaining a high military repu- 
tation, he was appointed by congress adjutant-general, with the 
rank of brigadier; and he accompanied general Washington to the 
American camp at Cambridge, in July, 1775, where he was em- 



112 HORATIO GATES. 

ployed for some time in a subordinate, but highly useful capacity. 
In June, 1776, Gates was appointed to the command of the army, 
of Canada, and on reaching Ticonderoga, he still claimed the 
command of it, though it was no longer in Canada, and was in the 
department of general Schuyler, a senior officer, who had ren- 
dered eminent services in that command. On representation to 
congress, it was declared not to be their intention to place Gates 
over Schuyler; and it was recommended to these officers, to en- 
deavor to co-operate harmoniously. General Schuyler was how- 
ever, shortly after, directed by congress to resume the command 
of the northern department, and general Gates withdrew himself 
from it; after which he repaired to head quarters, and joined the 
army under general Washington in Jersey. 

Owing to the prevalent dissatisfaction with the conduct of gen- 
eral Schuyler in the evacuation of Ticonderoga,* Gates was again 
directed to take command. He arrived about the 21st of August, 
and continued the exertions to restore the affairs of the depart- 
ment, which had been so much depressed by the losses conse- 
quent on the evacuation of Ticonderoga. It was fortunate for 
general Gates, that the retreat from Ticonderoga had been con- 
ducted under other auspices than his, and that he took the com- 
mand when the indefatigable, but unrequited labors of Schuyler, 
and the courage of Stark and his mountaineers, had already 
ensured the ultimate defeat of Burgoyne. 

Burgoyne, after crossing the Hudson, advanced along its side, 
and encamped on the height, about two miles from Gates' camp, 
which was three miles above Stillwater. This movement was 
the subject of much discussion. Some charged it on the impetu- 
osity of the general, and alleged that it was premature, before he 
was sure of aid .from the royal forces posted at New- York; but he 
pleaded the peremptory orders of his superiors. The rapid ad- 
vance of Bui'goyne, and especially his passage of the North river, 
added much to the impracticability of his future retreat, and made 
the ruin of his army in a great degree unavoidable. The Ameri- 
cans, elated with their successes at Bennington and Fort Schuyler, 
thought no more of retreating, but came out to meet the advancing 
British, and engaged them with firmness and resolution. 
* Vide biography of general Schuyler. 



HORATIO GATES. . 113 

The attack began a little before mid-day, September 10th, be- 
tween the scouting parties of the two armies. The commanders 
of both sides supported and I'einforced their respective parties. 
The conflict, though severe, was only partial for an hour and a 
half; but after a short pause, it became general and continued for 
three hours without any intermission. A constant blaze of fire was 
kept up, and both armies seemed determined on death or victory. 
The Americans and British alternately drove, and were driven by 
each other. The British artillery fell into our possession at ever} 
charge, but we could neither turn the pieces upon the enemy nor 
bring them off, so sudden were the alternate advantages. It was 
a gallant conflict, in which death, by familiarity, lost his terrors ; 
and such was the ardor of the Americans, that, as general Wilkin- 
son states, the wounded men after having their wounds dressed, in 
many instances returned again into the battle. Men, and pax'ticu- 
larly ofiicers, dropped every moment, and on every side. Several 
of the AHuej'icans placed themselves on high trees, and as often 
as they coi^ld distinguish an ofRcer''s uniform,tookhimofr by delib- 
erately aiming at his person. Few actions have been charttctfer- 
ized by more obstinacy in attack or defence. The British rqpeat- 
edly tried their bayonets, but without their usual success in the 
use of that weapon. 

The British lost upwards of five hundred men, including their 
killed, wounded, and prisoners. The Americans, inclusive of the 
missing, lost three hundred and nineteen. Thirty-six out of fortj- 
eight British artillerists were killed or wounded. The 62d British 
regiment, which was five hundred strong, when it left Canada, was 
reduced to sixty men, and four or five officers. In this engage- 
ment, general Gates, assisted by generals Lincoln and Arnold, 
commanded the American army, and general Burgoyne was at the 
head of his army, and generals Phillips, Reidesel, and Frazer, 
with their respective commands, were actively engaged. 

This battle was fought by the general concert and zealous co- 
cperation of the corps engaged, and was sustained more by indi- 
vidual courage than military discipline. General Arnold, who af- 
terwards traitorously deserted his country, behaved with the most 
-undaunted courage, leading on the troops, and encouraging them 
:by his personal efforts and daring exposure. The gallant colonel 

11 



114 HORATIO GATES, 

Morgan obtained immortal honor on this day. Lieutenant-colonel 
Brooks, with the eighth Massachusetts regiment, remained in the 
field till about eleven o'clock, and was the last who retired. Ma- 
jor Hull commanded a detachment of three hundred men, who 
fought with such signal ardor that more than half of them were 
killed. The whole number of Americans engaged in this action 
v/as about two thousand five hundred; the remainder of the army, 
from its unfavorable situation, took little or no part in the action. 

Each army claimed the victory, and each believed himself to 
have beaten, with only part of its force, nearly the whole of 
the enemy. The advantage, however, was decidedly in favor of 
the Americans, In every quarter they had been the assailants, 
and after an encounter of several hours, they had not lost a single 
inch of ground. 

General Gates, whose numbers increased daily, remained on 
his old ground. His right, which extended to the ri\'er, had been 
rendered unassailable, and he used great industry to strengthen 
his left. 

Both armies retained their position until the 8th of October; 
Burgoj'ne, in the hope of being relieved by Sir Henry Clinton; 
and Gates, in the confidence of growing sti'onger every day, and 
of rendering the destruction of his enemy more certain. But re- 
ceiving no further intelligence from Sir Henry, the British gene- 
ral determined to make one more trial of strength with his adver- 
sary. The following account of the brilliant affair of the 7th of 
October, 1777, is givenin Thacher's Military Journal: — 

"I am fortunate enough to obtain from our officers, a particular 
account of the glorious event of the 7th instant. The advanced 
parties of the two armies came into contact about three o'clock, 
on Tuesday afternoon, and immediately displayed their hostile at- 
titude. The Americans soon approached the royal army, and 
each party in defiance awaited the deadly blow. The gallant 
colonel Morgan, at the head of his famous rifle corps, and major 
Dearborn, leading a detachment of infantry, commenced the ac- 
tion, and rushed courageously on the British grenadiers, comman- 
ded by major Ackland; and the furious attack was most firmly 
resisted. In all parts of the field the conflict became extremely 
arduous and obstinate ; an unconquerable spirit on each side dis- 



IIOEATIO GATES. 115 

daining to yield the palm of victory. Death appeared to have 
lost his terrors ; breaches in the ranks were no sooner made than 
supplied by fresh combatants, awaiting a similar fate. At length 
the Americans pressed forward with renewed strength and ardor, 
and compelled the whole British line, commanded by Burgoyne 
himself, to yield to their deadly fire, and they retreated in disor- 
der. The German troops remained firmly posted at their lines ; 
these were now boldly assaulted by brigadier-general Lincoln and 
lieutenant-colonel Brooks, at the head of their respective com- 
mands, with such intrepidity, that the works were carried, and 
their bmve commander, lieutenant-colonel Breyman, was slain. 
The Germans were pursued to their encampment, which with all 
the equipage of the brigade, fell into our hands. Colonel Cilley, 
of general Poor's brigade, having acquitted himself honorably, 
was seen astride on a brass field-piece, exulting in the capture. 
Major Hull, of the Massachusetts line, was among those who so 
bravely stormed the enemy's entrenchment, and acted a conspicu- 
ous part. General Arnold in consequence of a serious misunder- 
standing with general Gates, was not vested with any command, 
by which he was exceedingly chagrined and irritated. He entered 
the field, however, and his conduct was marked with intemperate 
rashness ; flourishing his sword, and animating the troops, he struck 
an officer on the head without cause, and gave him a considerable 
wound. He exposed himself to every danger, and, with a small 
party of riflemen, rushed into the rear of the enemy, where he 
received a ball which fractured his leg, and his horse was killed 
under him. Nightfall put a stop to our brilliant career,, though the 
victory was most decisive ; and it is with pride and exultation that 
we recount the triumph of American bravery. Besides lieuten- 
ant-colonel Breyman slain, general Frazer, one of the most valu- 
able officers in the British service, was mortally wounded and sur- 
vived but a few hours. Frazer was the soul of the British army, 
and v\'as just changing the disposition of a part of the troops to re- 
pel a strong impression which the Americans had made, and were 
still making, on the British right, when Morgan called together 
two or three of his best marksmen, and pointing to Frazer, said, 
"Do you see that gallant officer? that is general Frazer — I respect 
and honor him ; but if is necessary he should die." This was enough. 



116 HORATIO GATES. 

Frazer immediately received his mortal wound, and was carried 
off the field. Sir Francis Clark, aid-de-camp to general Burgoyne, 
was brought into our camp with a mortal wound, and major Ack- 
land, who commanded the British grenadiers, was wounded through 
both legs, and made prisoner. Several other officers, and about 
two hundred privates, were prisoners in our hands, with nine pieces 
of cannon, and a considerable supply of ammunition, which was 
much wanted for our troops. The loss on our side was supposed 
not to exceed thirty killed, and one hundred wounded, in obtaining 
this signal victory." 

The position of the British army, after the action of the 7th, 
was so dangerous, that an immediate and total change of position 
became necessary, and Burgoyne took immediate measures to re- 
gain his former camp at Saratoga. There he arrived with little 
molestation from his adversary. His provisions being now redu- 
ced to the supply of a few days, the transport of artillery and bag- 
gage towards Canada, being rendered impracticable by the judici- 
ous measures of his adversary; the British general resolved upon 
a rapid retreat, merely with what the soldiers could carry. On 
examination, however, it was found that they were deprived even 
of this resource, as the passes through which their route lay, were 
so strongly guarded, that nothing but artillery could clear them. 
In this desperate situation a parley took place, and on the 17th of 
October, the whole army surrendered to general Gates. The prize 
obtained, consisted of more than five thousand prisoners, forty-two 
pieces of brass ordnance, seven thousand muskets, clothing for sev- 
en thousand men, with a great quantity of tents, and other mili- 
tary stores. 

Soon after the convention was signed, the Americans marched 
into their lines, and were kept these until the royal army had de- 
posited their arms at the place appointed. The delicacy with 
which this business was conducted, reflected honor on the Amer- 
ican general. Nor did the politeness of Gates end here. Every 
circumstance was withheld that could constitute a triumph in the 
American army. The captive general was received by his con- 
queror with respect and kindness. A number of the principal of- 
ficers of both armies met at general Gates' quarters, and for a while 



HORATIO GATKS. 117 

seemed to forget, in social and convivial pleasures, that they had 
been enemies. 

General Wilkinson gives the following account of the meeting 
between genera,l Burgoyne and general Gates: 

"General Gates, advised of Burgoyne's approach, met him at 
the head of his camp,Burgoyne in a rich royal uniform, and Gates 
in a plain blue frock. When they had approached nearly within 
sword's length, they reined up and halted. I then named the gen- 
tleman, and general Burgoyne, raising his hat most gracefully, 
said, "The fortune of war, general Gates, has made me your pris- 
oner ;" to which the conqueror, returning a courtly salute, prompt- 
1}" replied, "I shall always be ready to bear testimony that it has 
not been through any fault of your excellency." 

The thanks of congress were voted to general Gates and his 
army ; and a medal of gold, in commemoration of this great event, 
was ordered to be struck, to be presented to him by the president, 
in the name of the United States. 

It was not long after that the wonderful discovery was supposed 
to be made, that the illustrious Washington was incompetent to 
the task of conducting the operations of the American army, and 
that general Gates, if elevated to the chief command, would speed- 
ily meliorate the condition of our affairs. There were those who 
imputed to general Gates himself a principal agency in the affair,, 
which, however, he promptly disavowed. But certain it is, that a 
private correspondence was maintained between him and the in- 
triguing general Conway, in which the measures pursued by gen- 
eral Washington are criticised and reprobated; and in one of Con- 
way's letters, he pointedly ascribes our want of success to a weak 
general and bad counsellors. General Gates, on finding that gen- 
eral Washington had been apprised of the correspondence, ad- 
dressed his excellency, requesting that he would disclose the 
name of his informant; and in violation of the rules of decorum,, 
he addressed the commander-in-chief on a subject of extreme deli- 
cacy, in an open letter transmitted to the president of congre.ss. 
General Washington, however, did not hesitate to disclose the 
names and circumstance? which brought the affair to light. Gen- 
eral Gates, then, with inexcusable disingenuousness, attempted to 
vindicate the conduct of Conway, and to deny that the letter con- 
11* 



118 HOBATIO GATES. 

tained the reprehensible expressions in question, but utterly, re- 
fused to produce the original letter. This subject, however, was 
so ably and candidly discussed by general Washington, as to cover 
his adversary with shame and humiliation. It was thought inex- 
cusable in Gates, that he neglected to communicate to the com- 
mander-in-chief an account of so impoi'tant an event as the cap- 
ture of the British army at Saratoga, but left his excellency to ob- 
tain the information by common report. 

Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal, relates the following anec- 
dote : "Mr. T , an ensign in our regiment, has, for some time, 

discovered symptoms of mental derangement. Yesterday he in- 
triided himself at genera! Gates' head quarters, and after some 
amusing conversation, he put himself in the attitude of devotion, 
and prayed that God would pardon general Gates for endeavoring 
to supercede that godhke "man, Washington. The general ap- 
peared to be much disturbed, and directed Mr. Pierce, his aid-de- 
camp, to take him away." 

On the 13th of June, 1780, general Gates was appointed to the 
chief command of the southern army. Rich in fame from the 
fields of Saratoga, he hastened to execute the high and important 
trust; and the arrival of an officer so exalted in reputation, had an 
immediate and happy effect on the spirits of the soldiery and the 
hopes of the people. It was anticipated that he who had humbled 
Great Britain on the heights of the Hudson, and liberated New- 
York from a formidable invasion, would prove no less successful 
in the south, and become the deliverer of Carolina and Georgia 
from lawless rapine and military rule. But anticipations were 
vain, and the best Founded hopes were blighted ! In the first and 
only encounter which he had with lord Cornwallis, at Camden, 
August 15th, he suffered a total defeat, and was obliged to fly from 
the enemy for personal safety. 

Proudly calculating on the weight of his name, and too confi- 
dent in his own superiority, he slighted the counsel which he ought • 
to have respected, and hurrying impetuously into the field of bat- 
tle, his tide of popularity ebbed as fast at Camden as it had flowed 
at Saratoga.* 

*When the appointment of general Gates to the chief command 
of the sovthern army teas announced, general Lee remarked, that 



HORATIO GATES . 110 

It would be great injustice, however, to attribute the misfortune 
altogether to the commander, under his peculiar circumstances. 
A large proportion of his force consisted of raw militia, who were 
panic-struck, and fled at the first fire ; their rout was absolute and 
irretrievable. In vain did Gates attempt to rally them. That 
their speed might be the greater, they threw away their arms and 
accoutrements, and dashed into the woods and swamps for safety. 
A rout more perfectly wild and disorderly, or marked with grea- 
ter consternation and dismay, was never witnessed. Honor, man- 
hood, country, home, every recollection sacred to the feelings of 
the soldier and the soul of the brave, was merged in an ignomini- 
ous love of life. 

But from the moment general Gates assumed the command in 
the south, his former judgment and fortune seemed to forsake him. 
He was anxious to come to action immediately, and to terminate 
the war by a few bold and energetic measures ; and two days af- 
ter his anival in camp, he began his march to meet the enemy, 
without properly estimating his force. 

The active spirits of the place being roused and encouraged by 
the presence of a considerable army, and daily flocking to the 
standard of their country, general Gates, by a delay of action, had 
much to gain in point of numbers. To the prospects of the ene- 
my, on the contrary, delay would have been ruinous. To them 
there was no alternative but immediate battle and victory, or im- 
mediate retreat. Such, however, was the nature of the country, 
and the distance and relative position of the two armies, that to 
compel the Americans to action was impossible. The imprudence 
of the American general in hazarding an engagement at this time, 
is further manifested by the fact, that in troops on whose firmness 
he could safely rely, he was greatly inferior to his foe, they a - 
mounting to sixteen hundred veteran and highly disciplined regu- 
lars, and he having less than a thousand continentals. 

General Gates having retreated to Salisbury, and thence to 
Hillsborough, he there succeeded in Collecting around him the 
fragments of an army. Being soon after re-inforced by several 
small bodies of regulars and militia, he again advanced towards 

"his northern laurels would soon be exchanged for southern wil- 
lows. 



120 IWRATIO GATES, 

the south, and took post in Charlotte. Here he continued in com- 
mand until the 5th day of October, fifty days after his defeat at 
Camden, when congress passed a resolution requiring the com- 
mander-in-chief to order a court of inquiry on his conduct, as 
commander of the southern army, and to appoint some other offi- 
cer to that command. The inquiry resulted in his acquittal ; and 
it was the general opinion that he was not treated by Congress 
with that delicacy, or indeed gratitude, that was due to an officer 
of his acknowledged merit. He, however, received the order of 
his supercedure and suspension, and resigned the command to 
general Greene with becoming dignity, as is manifested, much to 
his credit^ in the following order: 

^''Head-Quarters, Charlotte, 3(Z Decemher, 1780. 
"Parole, Springfield — countersign, Greene. 

"The honorable major-general Greene, who arrived yesterday 
afternoon in Charlotte, being appointed by his excellency general 
Washington, with the approbation of the honorable congress, to 
the command of the southern army, all orders will, for the future, 
issue from him, and all reports are to be made to him. 

"General Gates returns his sincere and grateful thanks to the 
southern army, for their perseverance,^ fortitude, and patient en- 
durance of all the hardships and sufferings they have undergone 
while under his command. He anxiously hopes their misfortunes 
will cease therewith, and that victory, and the glorious advantages 
of it, may be the future portion of the southern army." 

General Greene had always been, and continued to be, the firm 
advocate of the reputation of general Gates, particularly if he 
heard it assailed with asperity • and still believed and asserted, 
that if there was any mistake in the conduct of Gates, it was in 
hazarding an action at all against such superior force ; and when 
informed of his appointment to supercede him, declared his con- 
fidence in his military talents,, and his willingness "to serve under 
him." General Gates was re-instated in his military command 
in the main army, in 1782*, but the great scenes of war were now- 
passed, and he could only participate in the painful scene of a 
final separation. 

In the midst of his misfortune, general Gates was called to 
mourn the afflictive dispensation of Providence, in the death of 



HOEATIO GATES. 121 

liis only son. Major Garden, in his excellent publication, has re- 
corded the following affecting anecdote, which he received from 
Dr. William Reed : 

"Having occasion to call on general Gates, relative to the busi- 
ness of the department under my immediate charge, I found him 
traversing the apartment which he occupied, under the influence 
of high excitement; his agitation was excessive — every feature of 
his countenance, every gesture betrayed it. Official despatches, 
informing him that he was superceded, and that the command of 
the southern army had been transferred to general Greene, had 
just been received and perused by him. His countenance, how- 
ever, betrayed no expression of irritation or resentment; it was 
sensibility alone that caused his emotion. An open letter, which 
he held in his hand, was often raised to his lips, and kissed with 
devotion, while the exclamation repeatedly escaped them — 'Great 
man! Noble, generous procedure!' When the tumult of his 
mind'' had subsided, and his thoughts found utterance, he, v.^ith 
strong expression of feeling, exclaimed, 'I have received this day 
a communication from the commander-in-chief, which has convey- 
ed more consolation to my bosom, more ineffable delight to my 
heart, than I had believed it possible for it ever to have felt again. 
With affectionate tenderness he sympathizes with me in my do- 
mestic misfortunes, and condoles with me on the loss I have sus- 
tained by the recent death of an only son; and then, with peculiar 
delicacy, lamenting my misfortune in battle, assures me that his 
coniidence in my zeal and capacity is so little impaired, that the 
command of the right wing of the army will be bestowed on me 
so soon as I can make it convenient to join him." 

After the peace, he retired to his farm in Berkley county, Vir- 
ginia, where he remained until the year 1790, when he went to 
reside in New-York, having first emancipated his slaves, and 
made a pecuniary provision for such as were not able to provide 
for themselves. Some of them would not leave him, but continued 
in his family. On his arrival at New- York, the freedom of the 
city was presented to him. In 1800 he accepted a seat in the 
legislature; hut he retained it no longer than he conceived his 
services might be useful to the cause of liberty, which he never 
abandoned. His political opinions did not separate him frcm many 



122 RICHARD MONTGOMERV. 

respectable citizens, whose views differed widely from his own. — 
He had a handsome person, and was gentlemanly in his manners, 
remarkably courteous to all, and gave indisputable marks of a 
social, amiable, and benevolent disposition. A fev/ Aveeks before 
his death, he closed a letter to a friend in the following words : 
"I am very weak, and have evident signs of an approaching dis- 
solution. But I have lived long enough, since I have lived to 
see a mighty people animated with a spirit to be free, and gov- 
erned by transcendent abilities and honor." He died without 
posterity, at his abode near New-York, on the 10th day of April, 
1806, aged seventy-eight years. 



RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 
Major-General in the Americats' Army. 
General Montgomery, whose premature death, under the- 
walls of Quebec, robbed the American army of one of its brightes^t 
ornaments, was born in the north of Ireland, in the year 1737. — 
He possessed an excellent genius, which was matured by a fine 
education. Entering the army of Great Britain, he successfully 
fought her battles with Wolfe at Quebec, in 1759, and on the very 
spot where he was doomed to fall, when fighting against her under 
the banners of freedom. After his return to England, he quitted 
his regiment in 1772, though in a fair way to preferment. 

He had imbibed a strong attachment to America, and viewing 
it as the rising seat of science and freedom, resolved upon trans- 
ferring to her his allegiance. After his arrival in this country, 
he purchased an estate in New-York, about one hundred miles 
from the city, and married a daughter of judge Livingston. 

He now considered himself as an American. Connected with 
one of the first families in New-York, and happy in the highest 
enjoyment of domestic felicity, he was led by principle to quit the 
occupations of rural life; and animated with an ardent zeal for the 
cause of human nature, the liberties of mankind, and the glory 
of America, both his active life, and his heroic death, verified 
his last expression to his amiable lady — " You shall never blush 
for your Montgomery,'''' 

At the commencement of the struggle with Great Britain, the 
command of the continental forces in the northern department 



RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 123 

was entrusted to him and general Schuyler, in the fall of 1775, 
'AVhile the British_ army was cooped up in Boston, without the 
power of much annoyance to the surrounding country, the con- 
gress conceived the design of sending a force into Canada, for 
the purpose of putting a stop to the preparations which it was 
known that general Carleton, the governor of that province, was 
making, for aiding his majesty's forces on this side of the lakes. 
For this purpose, generals Schuyler and Montgomery, with two 
regiments of New-York militia, and a body of New-England men, 
amounting in the whole to about two thousand men, were ordered 
to move towards Ticonderoga, which had remained in possession 
of the Americans since the expedition of colonels Arnold and Al- 
len. General Schuyler being detained at Albany, Montgomery 
proceeded alone to Crown Point, where he received intelligence 
that several armed vessels, which lay at the fort of St. John's, were 
preparing to enter the lake Champlain, for the purpose of imped- 
ing the passage of his troops. This determined him, though not 
more than half his troops liad arrived, to cross to the Isle aux 
Noix, at the entrance of the Sorel, and thus blockade the vessels + 
which lay in that river. He had scarcely succeeded in this de- 
sign, before he was joined by general Schuyler; and it Avas deter- 
mined, after publishing a declaration to the Canadians, setting 
forth their friendly intentions towards them, to proceed immedi- 
ately against the fort of St. John's. With this view they proceeded 
with their batteaux for a few miles down the Sorel, and landed 
on a swampy ground, through which, with great difficulty, they 
marched within two miles of the fort. Here they were suddenly 
attacked by a party of Indians, which, after a smart skirmish, they 
dispersed with a trifling loss, and continued their march ; but upon 
coming within view of the fort, and seeing its strength, general 
Schuyler, whose force did not amount to a thousand men, thought 
it prudent to return to the Isle aux Noix, without attempting its 
reduction. The general being then obliged to return to Albany, 
to settle a treaty with the Indians, left the command solely to 
Montgomery ; and never was there a general better qualified for 
the duties which now devolved upon him. 

"It was absolutely necessary, before he could go against Mon- 
treal, that the fort of St. John's should be reduced. It was well 



124 HORATIO GATES. 

provided, and strongly garrisoned. The supply of ammunition 
with which general Montgomery was provided, was much too 
small to render an immediate siege of St. John's prudent; and he 
would probably have been compelled to remain inactive until too 
late in the season to effect his object, but for the information of 
some Canadians, that the little fortress of Chamblee, which was 
but feebly garrisoned, contained a good store of that article. He 
accordingly made himself master of that place, and, to his great 
satisfaction, found one hundred and twenty barrels of powder, 
besides a large quantity of other military stores and provisions. — 
The expedition against this fortress was conducted by majors 
Brown and Livingston. 

"General Montgomery being thus enabled to carry on the siege 
of St. John's, proceeded to erect his works, and to prepare for a 
general assault. General Carleton, in the mean time, hearing 
the situation of St. John's, prepared to i-aise a force for its relief 
He had posted colonel M'Lean, with a regiment of Scotch emi- 
o-rants, at the mouth of the Sorel ; and having raised about a thou- 
sand men at Montreal, he attempted to cross at Longueil, for the 
purpose of forming a junction, and marching for the relief of St. 
John's. But colonel Ward, Avho was stationed at Longueil, with 
three hundred Green Mountain boys and a small piece of artil- 
lery, kept so warm a fire upon their boats, that the general was 
glad to return to Montreal. 

"When the news of this repulse reached Montgomery, he sent 
a flag to major Preston, who commanded the besieged fortress, 
summoniag him to surrender, as all hope of relief was cut off by 
Carleton's repulse, and a farther resistance could only lead to a 
useless waste of lives. Major Preston solicited a few days to 
consider the proposal, being still impressed with the hope that 
general Carleton might be able to come to his assistance ; but 
upon his request being refused, he accepted the honorable terms 
of capitulation which general Montgomery offered to him, and 
surrendered his garrison prisoners of war. The British officers 
spoke highly of the polite regard and attention shown to them by 
Montgomery, who permitted them to wear their swords, and to 
take off all their baggage and effects. The fort surrendered on 
the 3d of November." — Allen's Revolution. 



RICHARD MONTGOMERV. 125 

On the 12th, he took Montreal, the British general Carleton, 
havinff abandoned the town to its fate, and made his escape down 
the river in the night, in a small canoe with mufHed oars. Mont- 
jromery thus obtained possession of the naval force of the river, 
consisting of elevftn armed vessels. 

"Many circumstances combined to render the situation of gen- 
eral Montgomery, though a conqueror, extremely unpleasant. 
The season was far advanced, and the severities of the climate in- 
duced many of his men to desert — the time for which many others 
were enlisted was abodtto expire, and few were willing to encoun- 
ter the hardships of a long march through the deep snows of De- 
cember. Nothing but personal attachment to the noble character 
of the commander, could have kept a single regiment together. 
After new clothing all his men at Montreal, and rendering them 
in other respects as comfortable as the magazines there would ad- 
mit of, and having taken the necessary measures to ensure a sup- 
ply of provisions on the march, the general pushed on through 
every difficulty, and joined Arnold, who had marched through the 
wilderness, and arrived before Quebec, a short time previous, on 
the 1st of December. His appearance was a source of great joy 
to the colonel's troops, as he had not forgotten to bring with him 
a store of such supplies as he knew them to want. 

Montgomery lost no time after his arrival in preparing for an 
immediate attack. The whole of his force did not amount to more 
than the troops of the garrison ■ but he attempted, by assuming an 
appearance of greater strength, to weaken the confidence of the 
latter, and thereby accomplish his object without bloodshed. — For 
this purpose, on the 5th of December, he addressed a letter to the 
governor, in which he urged him, by every argument calculated 
to produce an effect upon his humanity or his fears, to spare his 
garrison the dreadful consequences of a storm, by an immediate 
surrender. General Carleton, however, was too old a soldier to 
be deceived by appearances — he knew the difficulties under which 
Montgomery labored, and was convinced that, if his garrison could 
hold out for a few days, the climate would compel the provincials 
to abandon the siege. Montgomery's messenger was fired at, and 
all communication forbidden. In this situation, fllontgomery com- 
menced a bombardment from five small mortars, which he kept 
12 



126 RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 

up for several days, with the hope of throwing the garrison into 
confusion. But it seemed to produce no effect. A battery of six 
guns was next opened upon them, at a distance of seven hundred 
yards, with no better success. The garrison remained insensible 
,to any impressions of alarm. 

"General Montgomery now found himself under circumstances 
much more delicate and embarrassing, than those which had six- 
teen years before, environed the hero Wolfe, at the same spot. — 
Several feet of snow covered the ground — his troops had under- 
gone every hardship that it was possible to suffer, and it seemed 
now almost impossible for human nature to endure more. He had 
ari-ived before Quebec a conqueror, his fame had reached his coun- 
trymen and his commander at Cambridge, and they would expect 
a continuance of success. He remembered, moreover, his parting 
words to the beloved partner of his bosom — 'You shall never 
blush for your Montgomery,' he had said when he gave her the 
last embrace. While these feelings and recollections were alter- 
nately elevating and depressing his noble spirit, he made a des- 
perate resolution to attempt the enemy's works by escalade. And 
such was the skill with which his plan had been formed, that no 
doubt can remain that he would ultimately have succeeded, had not 
his whole scheme been communicated to the garrison, by some 
scoundrels who deserted him at this critical moment. 

"Montgomery soon perceived that the garrison were prepared; 
and it became necessary to change his whole plan of operations. 
Having disposed his army into four divisions, two of which he in- 
tended should make feigned attacks, while Arnold and himself 
should be engaged in real attacks upon two opposite sides, before 
daylight, on the 31st of December, in a thick fall of snow, Mont- 
gomery advanced at the head of the New-Yorkers. Here again 
his fate resembled Wolfe's, for before he could reach the place 
from whence he intended to commence the attack, the signal had 
been given through mistake, and the whole garrison were alarmed. 
It was too late now to make another change in the plan of attack, 
and Montgomery pushed on — ^lie was compelled to advance through 
a narrow path between a precipice and overhanging rocks — he 
had seized and passed the first barrier, and was boldly advancing 
towards the second, with a few of his bravest companions, when a 



RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 127 

discharge of grape shot from the cannon that were placed there, 
stopped the progress of this brave and excellent officer, and des- 
troyed the hopes of the enterprise. Upon the fall of the general, the 
officer upcm whom the command of his party devolved, retired with- 
out making any attempt to pursue the advantages already gained. 
Some of his bravest officers had shared the glorious destiny of 
Montgomery, or Quebec must have fallen to the united efforts of 
this party and that under Arnold." — Audi's Revolution. 

In accordance with the concerted plan, "Arnold advanced with 
the utmost intrepidity against the battery in the other quarter of 
the city. The alarm was immediately given, and the fire on his 
flank commenced^ which, however, did not prove very destructive. 
As he approached the barrier, he received a musket ball in his 
leg, which shattered the bone, and was carried off the field to the 
hospital. Morgan rushed forward to the battery, at the head of his 
company, and received from one of the pieces, almost at its mouth, 
a discharge of grape shot, which killed only one man. A few 
rifles were immediately fired into the embrazures, by which a 
British soldier was wounded in the head, and the barricade being 
instantly mounted, with the aid of ladders brought by his men on 
their shoulders, the battery was deeerted without discharging the 
other gun. The captain of the guard, with the greater number of 
his men, fell into the hands of the Americans, and the others 
made their escape. 

"Morgan formed the troops, consisting of his own company and 
a few bold individuals who had pressed forward from other parts 
of the division, in the streets within the barrier, and took into cus- 
tody several English and Canadian burghers ; but his situation 
soon became extremely critical. He was not followed by the 
main body of the division ; and was, himself, totally ignorant of the 
situation of the town. It was yet dark; and he had not the slight- 
est knowledge of the course to be pursued, or of the defences to 
be encountered. Thus circumstanced, it was thought unadvisa- 
ble to advance further. 

"As the glow, produced by immense exertion, gave way to the 
cold, which was so intense that they were covered with icicles, 
and as the ardor, excited by action, subsided when they were no 
longer engaged, even this daring party became less animated. 



128 RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 

Whilst waiting in total ignorance of the fate of the residue of the 
division, the darkness of night, the fury of the storm, the scat- 
tering fire still kept up by the enemy, principally in their 
rear, the paucity of their numbers, and the uncertainty con- 
cerning their future operations, visibly affected them. It was af- 
ter some deliberation, determined to maintain their ground, while 
IMorgan should return to the barrier they had passed, for the pur- 
pose of bringing up the troops, who were supposed to be still on 
the other side of it. "They were soon joined by lieutenant-colo- 
nel Greene and majors Bigelow and Meigs, with several frag- 
ments of companies, so as to constitute, altogether, about two hun- 
dred men. 

"As the light of the day began to appear, this small but gallant 
party was again formed, with Morgan's company in front ; and 
with one voice, they loudly called on him to lead them against the 
second barrier, which was now known to be less than forty paces 
from them, though concealed by an angle of the street from their 
immediate view. Seizing the few ladders brought with them, they 
again rushed on to the charge, and on turning the angle, were 
hailed by captain or lieutenant Anderson, who was just issuing 
with a body of troops through the gates of the barricade, for the 
purpose of attacking the Americans, whom he had expected to 
find dispersed, and probably plundering the town. Morgan, who 
was in the front, answered his challenge by a ball through his 
head, and he fell : he was drawn within the barricade, and the 
gate closed upon the assailants, who received at the same instant 
a tremendous fire from the windows overlooking the barrier, and 
from the port-holes through it. Ladders were immediately placed 
against the barricade, and for some time a fierce contest was main- 
tained, which on the part of the assailants, was also a bloody one. 
A few of the bolder among the front files, ascended the ladders 
under this deadly fire ; and saw on the other side of the barricade, 
double ranks of roldiers, who with their muskets planted on the 
ground, presented hedges of bayonets to receive them, if they 
should attempt to leap to the earth. Exposed thus, in a narrow 
street, to a most galling fire, many of the assailants threWthem- 
selves into the stone houses on each side, which afforded them a 
shelter from the storm and from the enemy, and through the win- 



RICMARD MOJJTGfOMERY. 129 

flows of which they kept up an irregular and not very effective 
fire. One circumstance which greatly contributed to the irreso- 
lution that now displayed itself, was, that, scarcely more than one 
in ten of their fire arms could be used. Notwithstanding the pre- 
caution of tying handkerchiefs around the locks, the violence of 
the storm had totally unfitted them for service. Morgan soon 
found himself at the barrier, with only a few ofiicers and a small 
number of soldiers ; yet he could not prevail on himself to relinquish 
the enterprise. With a voice louder than the tempest, he called on 
those who were sheltered in the houses, to come forth and scale the 
barrier; but he called in vain; neither exhortations nor reproaches 
could draw them in sufficient numbers to the point of attack. Be- 
ing at length compelled to relinquish all hope of success, he or- 
dered the few brave men who still adhered to him, to save them- 
selves in the houses, while he, accompanied only by lieutenant 
Heth, returned towards the first barrier, in order to concert with 
the field officers some plan for drawing off the troops. He soon 
met majors Bigelow and Meigs, to whom he proposed an immedi- 
ate retreat by the same route along which they had marched to 
the attack. This proposition was assented to, and lieutenant Heth 
was despatched to draw the troops from their present situation." — 
MarshalVs Washington. 

"In Montgomery, the Americans lost one of the bravest and 
most accomplished generals that ever led an army to the field. — ■ 
But he was not more illustrious for his skill and courage as an 
officer, than he was estimable for his private virtues. He pos- 
sessed a mind adorned with every accomplishment, and a person 
in which every, manly grace shone with conspicuous lustre. He 
was 

"yl combination, and a form indeed, 
Where every God did seem to set his seal, 
To give the world assurance of a man.'''' 
"General Montgomery had borne the commission of a colonel 
in the war of 1759, and was fighting by the side of Wolfe when 
that Spartan hero fell. His bravery and his worth were Ihen ac- 
knowledged by the British army, and they were proud to regard 
him as a friend and brother; but notwithstanding the many profes- 
sions of attachment and esteem for his character, his body would 
12* 



130 RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 

have been thrown "with the heap of slain, uncoffined and unmarked, 
into the same indiscriminate pit, but for the lieutenant-governor; 
who, urged by the solicitations of the lady whom he afterward 
married, reluctantly procured a coffin of the roughest sort, and 
thus, apart from the rest, buried his former friend and companion. 
From this spot, after mouldering in the grave for more than forty- 
two years, the bones of this galliant soldier were removed by his 
fellow citizens of New-York, and deposited in a tomb more worthy 
of him. 

"The resemblance in the character, conduct, and destiny of 
Wolfe and Montgomery, is too striking to be passed over without 
a remark. Montgomery had been, in some measure, the pupil 
of Wolfe ; under his guidance he had learned the first rudiments 
of war; and in his career of glory he saw an example worthy of 
imitation.. We have seen the difficulties under which Wolfe had 
to struggle, and we have seen the noble daring which led him, 
perhaps against the suggestions of prudence, to attempt to sur- 
mount them. He lived, as he expressed himself, bi it to fight Mont- 
calm on equal ground — this accomplished, he had consummated 
the only object of his existence, and died '■'■content P Wolfe was 
fighting for his king, under the orders of his ministry; and here 
lies the striking difference in the lives and fortunes of these he- 
rocs. Montgomery entered on the expedition with the name of 
rebel. He ventured his fame, his character, his life, in the ser- 
vice of revolted colonies — but it was to secure to these colonies 
the enjoyment of liberty under the riglrts of the constitution. — 
For this he sacrificed the tender endearments of conjugal felicity, 
and at the head of an undisciplined body of men, placed himself 
in opposition to a veteran general. The skill which he displayed 
was equal to the fortitude which such an enterprise demanded. — 
He had not only to contend against a formidable enemy, but a- 
gainstthe severities of a climate to which none of his men were 
accustomed. His having in one night constructed a battery of 
ice, will at once show his military skill and industry, and the in- 
tense coldness of the climate. With a discontented, starving, and 
mutinous army, he pushed boldly forward in search of that victo- 
ry which had cheered the parting moments of Wolfe. But destiny 
had marked a different course for him ; death arrested his steps too 



RICHARD MONTGOMERV. 131 

soon. He was cut offin the onset, and none was left to follow the 
plan which he had marked out — his last sigh was embittered by 
anticipated defeat. 

"Victory brings its own lustre ; and when she entwines her gar- 
lands around the head of an insensate corpse, they seem from that 
single circumstance to display a lovelier verdure: death gives a 
more touching interest, a deeper pathos to the fate of the hero — 
the million will admire, and posterity will always applaud. But 
how does the tragedy deepen, when the hero expires on the field 
of battle, surrounded, not by the beams of victory, but by the dark- 
ness of defeat. He sees nothinij to cheer his parting moments, 
nothing in anticipation but public obloquy, and that reproach which 
seems inseparable from want of success. This reproach, and this • 
obloquy, did pursue the shade of Montgomery ; his heroism was 
stigmatized with the character of rashness — of insanity. But let 
it be remembered, that nothing but the difference of a few hours 
in the term of his life, prevented that victory which consecrated 
the same rashness in Wolfe, and impressed upon it the character 
of 2'lory. 

'•The turn of a die decides the fate of an army ; and the same 
thing is desperation in one, or the highest effort of military skill 
in another, according as defeat or success shall attend the enter- 
prise. Posterity, that looks at the records of history unbiassed, 
will observe no difference in the merits of Wolfe and Montgome- 
ry. They were both heroes — both entitled to the chaplet of im- 
mortal fame." — American Revolution. 

To express the h igh sense entertained by his country of his ser- 
vices, congress directed a monument of white marble to be erected, 
with the following inscription, which was placed in front of St. 
Paul's church, New-York : — "This Monument was erected by or- 
der of Congress, 25th January, 1776, to transmit to posterity, a 
grateful remembrance of the patriotism, conduct, enterprise, and 
perseverance of Major-Gteneral Richard Mo:vtgom;ery, who, a:f- 
ter a series of successes, amidst the most discouraging difficulties, 
fell in the attack on Quebec, 31st December, 1775 ; aged 39 years." 
The remains of general Montgomery, after resting 42 years at 
Quebec, by a resolve of the state of New-York, were brought to 



i32 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

the city of New-York, on the 8th of July, 1818, and depositee^ 
with ample form, and grateful ceremonies, near the aforesaid mon- 
ument in St. Paul's church. 



ISRAEL PUTNAM, 

MaJOR-GeNERAL in the AMERICAN ArMV. 

Israel Putnam, who, through a regular gradation of promotion, 
became the senior major-general in the army of the United States, 
and next in rank to general Washington, was born at Salem, Mas- 
sachusetts, on the 7th day of January, 1718. Courage, enter- 
prise, activity, and perseverance, were the first characteristics of 
his mind; and his disposition was as frank and generous, as his 
mind was fearless and independent. Although he had too much 
suavity in his nature to commence a quarrel, he had too much 
sensibility not to feel, and too much honor not to resent an intend- 
ed insult. The first time he went to Boston, he was insulted for 
his rusticity by a boy of twice his size and age. After bearing 
sarcasms until his patience was worn out, he challenged, engaged, 
and vanquished his unmannerly antagonist, to the great diversion 
of a crowd of spectators. While a stripling, his ambition was to 
perform the labor of a man, and to excel in athletic diversions. 

In the year 1739, he removed from Salem to Pomfret, an inland 
fertile town in Connecticut. Having here purchased a consider- 
able tract of land, he applied himself successfully to agriculture. 
"Our farmer, sufficiently occupied in building a house and barn, 
felling woods; making fences, sowing grain, planting orchards, 
and taking care of his stock, had to encounter in turn, the calam- 
ities occasioned by drought in summer, blight in harvest, loss of 
cattle in winter, and the desolation of his sheepfold by wolves. In 
one night he had seventy fine sheep and goats killed, besides many 
lambs and kids wounded. This havoc was committed by a she- 
wolf, which, with her annual whelps, had for several years infest- 
ed the vicinity. This wolf at length became such an intolerable 
niiisance, that Mr. Putnam entered int© a combination with five 
of his neighbors, to hunt alternately until they could destroy her. 
Two, by rotation, were to be constantly in pursuit. It was known, 
that having lost the toes from one foot by a steel trap, she made 
one track shorter than the other, By this vestige the pursuers 



ISRAEL PUTNAM. 133 

recognized, in a light snow, the route of this pernicious animal. 
Having followed her to Connecticut river, and found she had 
turned in a direct course towards Pomfret, they immediately re- 
turned ; and by ten o'clock the next morning, the blood-hounds had 
driven her into a den, about three miles distant from the house of 
Mr. Putnam. The people soon collected with dogs, guns, straw, 
fire, and sulphur, to attack the common enemy. With this appa- 
ratus, several unsuccessful efforts were made to force her from 
the den. The hounds came back badly wounded, and refused to 
return ,• the smoke of blazing straw had no effect ; nor did the fumes 
of burnt brimstone, with which the cavern was filled, compel her 
to quit the retirement. Wearied with such fruitless attempts, 
which had brought the time to ten o'clock at night, Mr. Putnam 
tried once more to make his dog enter, but in vain. He proposed 
to his negro man to go down into the cavern and shoot the wolf: 
the negro declined the hazardous service. Then it was that the 
master, angry at the disappointment, and declaring that he was 
ashamed to have a coward in his family, resolved himself to de- 
stroy the ferocious beast, lest she should escape through some un- 
known fissure of the rock. His neighbors strongly remonstrated 
against the perilous enterprise; but he, knowing that wild animals 
jyere intimidated by fire, and having provided several strips of 
birch bark, the only combustible which he could obtain, that would 
afford light in this deep and darksome cave, prepared for his de- 
scent. Having divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and 
having a long rope fastened round his legs, by which he might be 
pulled back at a concerted signal, he entered head foremost, with 
the blazing torch in his hand. The aperture of the den, on the 
east side of a very high ledge of rocks, is about two feet square; 
from thence it descends obliquely fifteen feet, then running hori- 
zontally about ten more, it ascends gradually sixteen feet towards 
its termination. The sides of this subterraneous cavity are com- 
posed of smooth and solid rocks, which seem to have been divided 
from each other by some former earthquake. The top and bottom 
are also of stone, and the entrance in winter, being covered with 
ice, is exceedingly slippery. It is in no place high enough for a 
man to raise himself upright, nor in any part more than three feet 
in width. Having groped his passage to the horizontal part of 



134 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

the den, the most terrifying darkness appeared in front of the dim 
circle of light afforded by his torch. It was silent as the house 
of death. None but monsters of the desert, had ever before ex- 
plored this mansion of horror.^ He, cautiously proceeding on- 
wards, came to the ascent, which he slowly mounted on his hands 
and knees, until he discovered the glaring eyeballs of the wolf, 
who was sitting at the extremity of the cavern. Startled at the 
sight of fire, she gnashed her teeth, and gave a sullen growl. As 
soon as he had made the necessary discovery, he kicked the rope 
as a signal for pulling him out. The people at the mouth of the 
den, who had listened with painful anxiety, hearing the growling 
of the wolf, and supposing their friend to be in the most imminent 
danger, drew him forth with such celerity, that his shirt v.as 
stripped ever his head, and his skin severely lacerated. After 
he had adjusted his clothes, and loaded his gun with nine buck- 
shot, holding a torch in one hand, and the musket in the other, he 
descended the second time. When he drew nearer than before^ 
the wolf, assuming a still more fierce and terrible appearance, 
howling, rolling her eyes, snapping her teeth, and dropping her 
head between her legs, was evidently in the attitude, and on the 
point of springing at him. At this critical instant, he levelled and 
fired at her head. Stunned with the shock, and sufix>cated wiih 
the smoke, he immediately found himself drawn out of the cave. 
But having refreshed himself, and permitted the smoke to dissi- 
pate, he went down the third time. Once more he came within 
sight of the wolf, who appearing very passive, he applied the torch 
to her nose, and perceiving her dead, he took hold of her ears, and 
then liicking the rope, (still tied round his legs,) the people above, 
with no small exultation, drew them both out together."-l/i/<e of P. 
But the time had now arrived, which was to turn the instruments 
of husbandry into weapons of hostility, and to exchange the hunt- 
ing of wolves, which had ravaged the sheepfolds, for the pursuit 
after savages who had desolated the frontiers. Putnam was about 
37 years of age, when the war between England and France 
broke out in America. In 1755, he was appointed to the com- 
mand of a company, in the first regiment of provincials that was 
raised in Connecticut. The regiment joined the army at the open- 
ing of the campaign, not far distant from Crown Point. 



ISRAEL PUTNAM. 135 

"Soon after his arrival at camp, he became intimately acquaint- 
ed with the famous partizan captain, afterwards major Roo-ers, 
with whom he was frequently associated in traversing the wilder- 
ness, reconnoitering the enemy's lines, gaining intelligence, and 
taking straggling prisoners, as well as in beating up the quarters, 
and surprising the advanced pickets of their army. For these 
operations, a corps of rangers was formed from the irregulars. — 
The first time Rogers and Putnam were detached with a party 
of these light troops, it was the fortune of the latter to preserve, 
with his own hand, the life of the former, and to cement their 
friendship with the blood of one of their enemies. 

The object of this expedition was to obtain an accurate know- 
ledge of the position and state of the works at Crown Point. It 
was impracticable to approach with their party near enough for 
this purpose, without being discovered. — Alone, the undertaking" 
was sufficiently hazardous, on account of the swarms of hostile 
Indians who infested the woods. Our two partizans, however, left 
all their men at a convenient distance, with strict orders to continue 
concealed until their return. Having thus cautiously taken their 
arrangements, they advanced wdth the profoundest silence in the 
evening; and lay during the night contiguous to the fortress. Early 
in the morning they approached so close as to be able to give sat- 
isfactory information to the general who had sent them, on the sev- 
eral points to which their attention had been directed, but captain 
Rogers, being at a little distance from captain Putnam, fortuitously 
met a stout Frenchman, who instantly siezed his fuzee v/ith one 
hand, and with the other attempted to stab him, while he called to 
an adjacent guard for assistance. The guard answered. — Put- 
nam, perceivmgthe imminent danger of his friend, and that no time 
was to be lost, or further alarm given by firing, ran rapidly to them, 
while they were yet struggling, and with the butt-end of his piece 
laid the Frenchman dead at his feet. The partizans, to elude pur- 
suit, precipitated their flight, joined the party, and returned with- 
out loss to the encapment." — Life of Putnam. 

The time for which the colonial troops engaged to serve, termi- 
nated with the campaign- Putnam was re-appointed, and again 
took the field in 1756. 

"Few are so ignorant of war, as not to know that military ad- 



136 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

venturers, in the night, are always extremely liable to accidents. 
Captain Putnam, having been commanded to reconnoitre the ene- 
my's camp at the Ovens near Ticonderoga, took the brave lieuten- 
ant Robert Durkee as his companion. 

"In attempting to execute these orders, he narrowly missed be- 
ing taken himself in the first instance, and killing his friend in 
the second. It was customary for the British and provincial 
troops to place their fires round their camp, which frequently ex- 
posed them to the enemy's scouts and patroles. A contrary prac- 
tice, then unknown in the English army, prevailed among the 
French and Indians. The plan was much more rational ; they 
kept their fires in the centre, lodged their men circularly at a dis- 
tance, and posted their sentinels in the surrounding darkness. — 
Our partizans approached the camp, and supposing the sentries 
were within the circle of fires, crept upon their hands and knees 
with the greatest possible caution, until, to their utter astonish- 
ment, they found themselves in the thickest of the enemy. The 
sentinels, discovering them, fired, and slightly wounded Durkee in 
thethiffh. He and Putnam had no alternative. They fled. The 
latter being foremost, and scarcely able to see his hand before 
him, soon plunged into a clay-pit. Durkee, almost at the identi- 
cal moment, came tumbling after. Putnam by no means pleased 
at finding a companion, and believing him to be one of the ene- 
my, lifted his tomahawk to give the deadly blow, when Durkee, 
(who had followed him so closely as to know him,) inquired wheth- 
er he had escaped unhurt. Captain Putnam, instantly recogniz- 
ing the voice, dropped his weapon ; and both springing from the 
pit, made good their retreat to the neighboring ledges, amidst a 
shower of random shot. There they betook themselves to a large 
log, by the side of which they lodged the remainder of the night. 
Before they lay down, captain Putnam said he had a little rum in 
his canteen, which could never be more acceptable or necessary : 
but on examining the canteen, which hung under his arm, he 
found the enemy had pierced it with their balls, and that there 
was not a drop of liquor left. The next day he found fourteen 
bullet holes in his blanket." — Life of Putnam. 

Nothing worthy of remark happened during the course of this 
campaign, but the active services of captain Putnam on every oc- 



ISRAEL PUTNAM. 137 

<:asion attracted the admiration of the public, and induced the leg- 
islature of Connecticut to promote him to a majority in 1757. 

"In the winter of 1757, when colonel Haviland was comman- 
dant at Fort Edward, the barracks adjoining to the northwest 
bastion took fire. They extended within twelve feet of the mag- 
azine, which contained three hundred barrels of powder. On its 
first discovery, the fire raged with great violence. The comman- 
dant endeavored, in vain, by discharging some pieces of heavy ar- 
tillery against the supporters of this flight of barracks, to level 
them with the ground. Putnam arrived from the Island where he 
was stationed, at the moment when the blaze approached that end 
which was contiguous to the magazine. Instantly a vigorous at- 
tempt was made to extinguish the conflagration. A way was 
opened by a postern gate to the river, and the soldiers were em- 
ployed in bringing water; which he, having mounted on a ladder 
to the eves of the building, received and threw upon the flame. 
It continued, notwithstanding their utmost efforts, to gain upon 
them. He stood, enveloped in smoke, so near the sheet of fire, 
that a pair of thick blanket mittens were burnt entirely from his 
hands ; he was supplied with another pair dipt in water. Colonel 
Haviland, fearing that he would perish in the flames, called to him 
to come down. But he entreated that he might be suffered to re- 
main, since destriiction must inevitably ensue if their exertions 
>hould be remitted. The gallant commandant, not less astonished 
than charmed at the boldness of his conduct, forbade any more 
effects to be carried out of the fort, animated the men to redoubled 
diligence, and exclaimed, "If we must be blown up, we will go all 
together." At last, when the barracks were seen to be tumbling, 
Putnam descended, placed himself at the interval, and continued 
from an incessant rotation of replenished buckets, to pour water 
upon the magazine. The outside planks were already consumed 
by the proximity of the fire, and as only one thickness of timber 
intervened, the trepidation now became general and extreme. — 
Putnam, still undaunted, covered with a cloud of cinders, and 
scorched with the intensity of the heat, maintained his position un- 
til the fire subsided, and the danger was wholly over. He had 
contended for one hour and a half with that terrible element. His 
legs, his thighs, his arms, and his face were blistered ; and when 
13 



138 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

he pulled off his second pair of mittens, the skin from his hands 
and fingers followed them. It was a month before he recovered. 
The commandant, to whom his merits had before endeared him, 
could not stifle the emotions of gratitude due to the man who had 
been so instrumental in preserving the magazine, the fort, and the 
garrison. 

In the month of August, five hundred men were employed, un- 
der the orders of majors Rogers and Putnam, to watch the motions 
of the enemy near Ticonderoga. At South-Bay they separated 
the party into two equal divisions, and Rogers took a position on 
Wood creek, twelve miles distant from Putnam. 

Upon being, sometime afterwards, discovered, they formed a re- 
union, and concerted measures for returning to Fort Edward. — 
Their march through the woods was in three divisions by files; 
the right commanded by Rogers, the left by Putnam, and the cen- 
tre by captain D'EIL At the moment of moving, the famous 
French partizan, Molang, who had been sent with five hundred 
men to intercept our party, was not more than one mile and a half 
distant from them. Major Putnam was just emerging from the 
thicket into the common forest, when the enemy rose, and with 
discordant yells and whoops, commenced an attack upon the right 
of his division. Surprised, but undismayed, Putnam halted, re- 
turned the fire, and passed the word for the other divisions to ad- 
vance for his support. D'Ell came. The action, though widely 
scattered, and principally fought between man and man, soon grew 
general and intensely warm. 

Major Putnam, perceiving it would be impracticable to cross the 
-creek in his rear, determined to maintain his ground. Inspired 
by his example, the officers and menbehaved with great bravery ; 
sometimes they fought aggregately in open view, and sometimes 
individually under cover; taking aim from behind the bodies of 
trees, and acting in a manner independent of each other. For 
himself, having discharged his fuzee several times, at length it 
missed fire, while the muzzle was pressed against the breast of a 
large and well proportioned savage. This icarrior, availing hira- 
.self of the indefensible attitude of his adversary, with a tremend- 
.ous war-whoop, sprung forward, with his lifted hatchet, and com- 



ISRAEL PUTNAM. 139 

peliedhim to surrender; and having disarmed and bound him fast 
to a tree, returned to the battle. 

The intrepid captains D'EU and Harman, who now commanded, 
were forced to give ground for a little distance : the savages, con- 
ceiving this to be the certain harbinger of victory, rushed impetu- 
ously on, with dreadful and redoubled cries. But our two parti- 
sans, collecting a handful of brave men, gave the pursuers so 
warm a reception as to oblige them, in turn, to retreat a little be- 
yond the spot at which the action had commenced. Here they 
made a stand. This change of ground occasioned the tree to 
which Putnam was tied to be directly betw'een the fire of the two 
parties. Human imagination can hardly figure to itself a more 
deplorable situation. The balls flew incessantly from either side, 
many struck the tree, while some passed through the sleeves and 
skirts of his coat. In this state of jeopardy, unable to move his 
body, to stir his limbs, or even to incline his head, he remained 
more than an hour. So equally balanced, and so obstinate was 
the fight! At one moment, while the battle swerved in favor of 
the enemy, a young savage chose an odd way of discovering his 
humor. He found Putnam bound. He might have despatched 
him at a blow. But he loved better to excite the terrors of the 
prisoner, by hurling a tomahawk at his head, or rather it should 
seem his object was to see how near he could throw it without 
touching him — the weapon struck in the tree a number of times at 
a hairs breadth distance from the mark. When the Indian had 
finished his amusement, a French bas-ofiicer (a much more invet- 
erate savage by nature, though descended from so humane and 
polished a nation) perceiving Putnam, came up to him, and, level- 
ling a fuzee within a foot of his breast, attempted to discharge it 
— it missed fire. Ineffectually did the intended victim solicit the 
treatment due to his situation, by repeating that he was a prisoner 
of war. The degenerate Frenchman did not understand the lan- 
guage of honor or of nature : deaf to their voice, and dead to sen- 
sibility, he violently, and repeatedly, pushed the muzzle of his 
gun against Putnam's ribs, and finally gave him a cruel blow on 
the jaw with the butt-end of his piece. After this dastardly deed 
he left him. 

At length the active intrepidity of D'EU and Harman, seconded 



140 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

by the persevering valor of their followers, prevailed. They 
drove from the field the enemy, who left about ninety dead behind 
them. As they were retiring, Putnam was untied by the Indian 
who had made him prisoner, and whom he afterwards called mas- • 
ter. Having been conducted for some distance from the place of 
action, he was stripped of his coat, vest, stockings, and shoes; 
loaded with as many of the packs of the wounded as could be 
piled upon him ; strongly pinioned, and his wrists tied as closely 
together as they could be pulled with a cord. After he had 
marched, through no pleasant paths, in this painful manner, for 
many a tedious mile, the party, (who were excessively fatigued) 
halted to breathe. His hands were now immoderately swelled 
from the tightness of the ligature j and the pain had become intol- 
erable. His feet were so much scratched, that the blood dropped 
fast from them. Exhausted with bearing a burden above his 
strength, and frantic with torments exquisite beyond endurance, 
he entreated the Irish interpreter to implore, as the last and only 
grace he desired of the savages, that they would knock him on the 
head and take his scalp at once, or loose his hands. A French 
officer, instantly interposing, ordered his hands to be unbound, and 
some of the packs to be taken off. By this time the Indian who 
captured him, and had been absent with the wounded, coming up, 
gave him a pair of moccasons, and expressed great indignation at 
the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered. 

That savage chief again returned to the care of the wounded, 
and the Indians, about two hundred in number, went before the 
rest of the party to the place where the whole were that night to 
encamp. They took with them major Putnam, on whom, besides 
innumerable other outrages, they had the barbarity to inflict a 
deep wound with the tomahawk in the left cheek. His sufferings 
were in this place to be consummated, A scene of horror, infinite- 
ly greater than had ever met his eyes before, was now preparing. 
It was determined to roast him alive. For this purpose they led 
him into a dark forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, 
and piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a small distance, in a cir- 
cle round him. They accompanied their labors, as if for his fu- 
neral dirge, with screams and sounds inimitable but by savage 
voices. Then they set the piles on fire. A sudden shower 



ISRAEL PUTNAM. 141 

damped the rising flame. Still they strove to kindle it, until at 
last, the blaze ran fiercely round the circle. Major Putnam soon 
began to feel the scorching heat. 

His hands were so tied that he could move his body. He often 
shifted sides as the fire approached. This sight, at the very idea 
of which all but savages must shudder, afforded the highest diver- 
sion to his inhuman tormentors, who demonstrated the delirium of 
their joy by correspondent yells, dances, and gesticulations. He 
saw clearly that his final hour was inevitably come. He sum- 
moned all his resolution, and composed his mind, as far as the cir- 
cumstances could admit, to bid an eternal farewell to all he held 
most dear. To quit the world would scarcely have cost a single 
pang; but for the idea of home, but for the remembrance of do- 
mestic endearments, of the affectionate partner of his soul, and of 
their beloved offspring. His thought was ultimately fixed on a hap- 
pier state of existence beyond the tortures he was beginning to en- 
dure. The bitterness of death, even of that death which is ac- 
companied with the deepest of agonies, was, in a manner, past — 
nature, with a feeble struggle, was quitting its last hold on sublu- 
nary things — when a French officer rushed through the crowd, 
opened a way by scattering the burning brands, and unbound the 
victim. It was Molang himself — to whom a savage, unwilling to 
see another human sacrifice immolated, had run and communicated 
the tidings. That commandant spurned and severely repriman- 
ded the barbarians, whose noctural powwows and hellish orgies he 
suddenly ended. Putnam did not want for feeling or gratitude. 
The French commander, fearing to trust him alone with them, re- 
mained until he could deliver him with safety into the hands of 
his master. 

The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seemed to treat 
him with particular affection. He offered him some hard biscuit; 
but finding that he could not chew them, on account of the blow 
he had received from the Frenchman, this more humane savage 
soaked some of the biscuit in water, and made him suck the pulp- 
like part. Determined, however, not to lose his captive, (the re- 
freshment being finished) he took the moccasons from his feet, and 
tied them to one of his wrists ; then directing him to lie down on 
his back upon the bare ground, he stretched one arm to its Ml 
13* 



142 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

length, and bound it fast to a young tree ; the other arm was ex- 
tended and bound in the same manner — his legs were stretched 
apart, and fastened to two saplings. Then a number of tall, but 
slender poles, were cut down, which, with some long bushes, were 
laid across his body from head to foot ; on each side lay as many 
Indians as could conveniently find lodging, in order to prevent the 
possibility of his escape. In this disagreeable and painful posture, 
he remained until morning. During this night, the longest and 
rhost dreary conceivable, our hero used to relate, that he felt a ray 
of cheerfulness come casually across his mind, and could not even 
refrain from smiling, when he reflected on this ludicrous group for 
a painter, of which he himself was the principal figure. 

The next day he was allowed his blanket and moccasons, and 
permitted to march without carrying any pack, or receiving any 
insult. To allay his extreme hunger, a little bear's meat was 
given, and which he sucked through his teeth. At night the party 
arrived at Ticonderoga ; and the prisoner was placed under the 
care of the French guard. The savages, who had been prevented 
from glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took other opportu- 
nities for manifesting their malevolence for the disappointment, 
by horrid grimaces and angry gestures ; but they were suffered no 
more to offer violence or personal indignity to him. 

After having been examined by the marquis de Montcalm, ma- 
jor Putnam was conducted to Montreal, by a French officer, who 
treated him with the greatest indulgence and humanity. 

At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter Schuyler, 
remarkable for his philanthropy, generosity and friendship, was 
of the number. No sooner had he heard of major Putnam's ar- 
rival, than he went to the interpreter's quarters, and inquired 
whether he had a provincial major in his custody? He found ma- 
jor Putnam in a comfortless condition — without coat, waistcoat or 
hose — the remnant of his clothing miserably dirty and ragged — 
his beard long and squalid — his legs torn by thorns and briars — 
his face gashed with wounds, and swollen with bruises. Colonel 
Schuyler, irritated beyond all sufierance at such a sight, could 
scarcely restrain his speech within limits, consistent with the pru- 
dence of a prisoner and the meekness of a christian. Major 
Putnam was immediately treated according to his rank, clothed 



rSKAEL PUTNAM. 143 

in a decent manner, and supplied with money by that liberal and 
sympathetic patron of the distressed. 

The capture of Fontenac by general Bradstreet, afforded occa- 
sion for an exchange of prisoners. Colonel Schuyler was com- 
prehended in the cartel. A generous spiri^can never be satisfied 
with imposing tasks for its generosity to accomplish. Apprehen- 
sive that if it should be known that Putnam, was a distinguished 
partizan, his liberation might be retarded, and knowing that there 
were officers who, from the length of their captivity, had a claim 
of priority to exchange, he had, by his happy address, induced 
the governor to offer, that whatever officer he might think proper 
to nominate should be included in the preseot cartel. With great 
politeness in manner, but seeming indifference as to the object, he 
expressed his warmest acknowledgments to the governor, and 
said, — 'There is an old man here, who is a provincial major, and 
wishes to be at home with his wife and children ; he can do no good 
here or any where else : I believe your excellency had better keep 
some of the young men, who have no wife nor children to care for, 
and let the old fellow go home with me.' This justifiable finesse 
had the desired effect. — Life of Putnam. 

Shortly after, Putnam was promoted to a lieutenant-colonel, in 
which he continued until the close of the war, ever, and on all oc- 
casions, supporting his hard-earned reputation for valor and intre- 
pidity ; and, at the expiration of ten years from his first receiving 
a commission, after having seen as much service, endured as many 
hardships, encountered as many dangers, ap<i acquired as many 
laurels as any officer of his rank, with great satisfaction laid aside 
his uniform and returned to the plough. 

On the 22dof March, 1765, the stamp-act received the royal 
assent. Colonel Putnam was at this time a member of the house 
of assembly of the state of Connecticut, and was deputed to wait 
on the then governor Fitch, on the subject. The questions of the 
governor ana answers of Putnam, will serve to vindicate the spirit 
of the times. After some conversation, the governor asked colonel 
Putnam, "what he should do if the stamped paper should be sent 
to him by the king's authority ?" Putnam replied — "lock it up 
until we shall visit you again." "And what will you do then?" 
'"We shall expect you to give us the key of the room in which it is 



144 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

deposited ; and if you think it fit, in order to secure yourself from 
blame, you may forewarn us, upon our peril, not to enter the room." 
"And what will you do afterwards ?" "Send it safely back again." 
"But if I should refuse admission?" "In such case your house 
will be demolished in five minutes." It is supposed that a report 
of this conv ersation was one reason why the stamp paper was 
never sent from New-York to Connecticut. 

Being once in particular, asked by a British officer, with whom 
he had formerly served, "whether he did not seriously believe that 
a well appointed British army of five thousand veterans, could 
march through the whole continent of America?" — he briskly re- 
plied, "no doubt, if they behaved civilly, and paid well for every 
thing that they wanted;" but, after a moment's pause, added, "if 
they should attempt it in a hostile manner, (though the American 
men were^out of the question,) the women, with their ladles and 
broomsticks, would knock them all on the head before they had 
got half way through." 

The battle of Lexington found Putnam in the midst of his agri- 
cultural pursuits. Immediately upon learning the fatal rencounter, 
he left his plough in the middle of the field, unyoked his team, and, 
without waiting to change his clothes, set off" for the theatre of 
action. But finding the British retreated to Boston, and invested 
by a sufficient force to watch their movements, he came back to 
Connecticut, levied a regiment under authority of the legislature, 
and speedily relumed to Cambridge. He was now promoted to a 
major-general on the continental establishment. 

"Not long after this period, the British commander-in-chief 
found the means ta^onvey a proposal, privately, to general Put- 
nam, that if he would relinquish the rebel party, he might rely 
upon being made a major-general on the British establishment, 
and receiving a great pecuniary compensation for his services. 
General Putnam, spurned at the oflfer; which however, he thought 
prudent at that time to conceal from public notice." 

"In the battle of Bunker's Hill, he exhibited his usual intre- 
pidity. He directed the men to reserve their fire, till the enemy 
was very near, reminded them of their skill, and told them to take 
good aim. They did so, and the execution was terrible. After 
the retreat, he made a stand at Winter Hill, and drove back th©; 



ISRAEL PUTNAM. 145 

enemy under cover of their ships. When the army was organi- 
zed by general Washington, at Cambridge, Putnam was appoint- 
ed to comra?ind the reserve. In August, 1776, he was stationed 
at Brooklyn, on Long-Island. After the defeat of our army, on 
the twenty -seventh of that month, he went to New-York and was 
very serviceable in the city and neighborhood. In October or 
November, he was sent to Philadelphia, to fortify that city. 

In January, 1777, he was directed to take post at Princeton, 
where he continued until spring. At this place a sick prisoner, a 
captain, requested that a friend in the British army at Brunswick 
might be sent for, to assist him in making his will. Putnam was 
perplexed. He had but fifty men under his command, and he did 
not wish to have his weakness known; yet he was unwilling to 
deny the request. He, however, sent a flag of truce, and directed 
the officer to be brought in the night. In the evening, lights were 
placed in all the college windows, and in every apartment of the 
vacant houses throughout the town. The officer, on his return, 
reported that general Putnam's army could not consist of less than 
four or five thousand men. 

In the spring, he was appointed to the command of a separate 
army, in the highlands of New-York. One Palmer, a lieutenant 
in the tory new levies, was detected in the camp. Governor Tryon 
reclaimed him as a British officer, threatening vengeance if he 
was not restored. General Putnam wrote the following pithy 
reply: — "Sir, Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your king's service, 
was taken in my camp as a spy; he was tried as a spy; he was 
condemned as a spy; and he shall be hanged as a spy. — P. S. Af- 
oon. He is hanged." 
After the loss of Fort Montgomery, the comriiander-in-chief de- 
termined to build another fortification, and he directed Putnam 
to fix upon a spot. To him belongs the praise of having chosen 
West Point. 

"About the middle of winter, while general Putnam was on a 
visit to his out-post at Horse-Neck, he found governor Tryon ad- 
vancing upon that town with a corps of fifteen hundred men. To 
oppose these, general Putnam had only a piquet of 150 men, and 
two iron field pieces, without horses or drag-ropes. He, however, 
planted his cannon on the high ground, by the meeting-house, and 



146 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

retarded their approach by firing several times, until, perceiving 
the horse (supported by the infantry) about to charge, he ordered 
the piquet to provide for their safety by retiring to a swamp, inac- 
cessible to horse, and secured his own by plunging down the steep 
precipice at the church, upon a full trot. This precipice is so 
steep, where he descended, as to have artificial stairs, composed 
of nearly one hundred stone steps, for the accommodation of foot 
passengers. There the dragoons, who were but a sword's length 
from him, stopped short; for the declivity was so abrupt, that they 
ventured not to follow him ; and before they could gain the valley, 
by going round the brow of the hill in the ordinary road, he was 
far enough beyond their reach. He continued his route unmo- 
lested to Stamford; from whence, having strengthened his piquet 
by the junction of some militia, he came back againyand,in turn^. 
pursued governor Tryon in his retreat. As he rode down the 
precipice, one ball, of the many fired at him, went through his 
beaver; but governor Tryon, by way of compensation for spoiling 
his hat, sent him soon afterwards, as a present, a complete suit 
of clothes." — Life of Putnam. 

The canipa%n of 1779, which was principally spent in com- 
pleting the works at West Point, finished the military career of 
Putnam. A paralytic aflfection^ impaired the activity of his body, 
and compelled him to quit the army. 

"The remainder of the life of general Putnam was spent in 
quiet retirement with his family. He experienced few interrup- 
tions in his bodily health, (except the paralytic debility with which 
he was afflicted,) retained full possession of his mental faculties, 
and enjoyed the society of his friends, until the 17th of May, 1790^ 
when he was violently attacked with an inflammatory disease. — 
Satisfied from the first that it would prove mortalj he was calm and 
resigned, and welcomed the approach of death with joy, as a mes- 
senger sent to call him from a life of toil to everlasting rest. On 
the 19th of May, 1790, he ended a life which had been spent in 
cultivating and defending the soil of his birth, aged 72 years." 

The late Rev. Dr. Dwight, president of Yale college, who knew 
general Putnam intimately, has portrayed his character faithfully 
in the following inscription, which is engraven on his tomb: — 
"Sacred be this monument to the memory of Israel Putnam, Esq. 



^ENRY K^'OX. 147 

senior major-general in the armies of the United States of Amer- 
ica; who was born at Salem, in the province of Massachusetts, on 
the 7th day of January, A. D. 1718, and died on the 19th of May, 
1790. Passenger, if thou art a soldier, drop a tear over the dust 
of a hero, who, ever attentive to the lives and happiness of his 
men, dared to lead where any dared to follow : if a patriot, remem- 
ber the distinguished and gallant services rendered thy country 
bvthe patriot who sleeps beneath this marble: if thou art honest, 
o-enerous and worthy, render a cheerful tribute of respect to a 
man, whose generosity was singular; whose honesty was prover- 
bial ; who raised himself to universal esteem, and offices of emi- 
nent distinction, by personal worth, and a useful life." 



HENRY KNOX, 
Major-General in the American Army, 

••'Among those of our countrymen who most zealously engaged 
in the cause of liberty, few sustained a rank more deservedly 
conspicuous than general Knox. He was one of those heroes, of 
ivhom it may be said, that he lived for his country. 

Born in Boston, July 1750, his childhood and youth were em- 
ployed in obtaining the best education that the justly celebrated 
schools of his native town afforded. In very early life he opened 
a book store, for the enlargement of which he soon formed an ex- 
tensive correspondence in Europe. But little time elapsed before, 
at the call of his country, he relinquished his lucrative and in- 
creasing business. Indebted to no adventitious aid, his character 
was formed by himself: the native and vigorous principles of his 
own mind made him what he was. Distinguished among his as- 
sociates, from the first dawn of manhood, for a decided predilection 
to martial exercise, he was at the age of eighteen, selected by the 
young men of Boston, as one of the officers of a company of gren- 
adiers — a company so distinguished for its martial appearance, 
and precision of its evolutions, that it received the most flattering 
encomium from a British officer of high distinction. 

This early scene of his military labors, served but as a school 
for that distinguished talent, which afterwards shone with lustre 
in the most brilliant campaigns of an eight years' war; through 



148 HENRY KNOX. 

the whole of which, he directed the artillery with consummate 
skill and bravery. 

His heart was deeply engaged in the cause of freedom : he felt 
it to be a righteous cause, and to its accomplishment yielded every 
other consideration. When Britain declared hostilities, he hesi- 
tated not a moment as to what course he should pursue. No sordid 
calculation of interest retarded his decision. The quiet of domestic 
life, the fair prospect of increasing wealth, and even the endearing 
claim of family and friends, though urged with the most persua- 
sive eloquence, had no power to divert the determined purpose 
of his mind. 

In the early stages of British hostility, though not in commis- 
sion, he was not an inactive spectator. At the battle of Bunker 
Hill as a volunteer, he was constantly exposed to danger in recon- 
noitering the movements of the enemy; and his ardent mind was 
constantly engaged, with others, in preparing those measures that 
were ultimately to dislodge the British troops from their boasted 
possession of the capital of New-England. 

Scarcely had we begun to feel the aggressions of the British 
arms, before it was perceived that without artillery, of w hich we 
were then destitute, the most important objects of the war could 
not be accomplished. No resource presented itself, but the des- 
perate expedient of procuring it from the Canadian frontier. To 
attempt this, in the agitated state of the country, through a wide 
extent of wilderness, was an enterprise so replete with toil and 
danger, that it was hardly expected any one would be found hardy 
enough to encounter its perils. Knox, however, saw the impor- 
tance of the object: he saw his country bleeding at every pore, 
without the power of repelling her invaders — he saw the flourish- 
ing capital of the north in the possession of an exulting enemy .; 
that we were destitute of the means essential to their annoyance ; 
and he formed the daring and generous resolution of supplying the 
army with ordnance, however formidable the obstacles that might 
oppose him. Young, robust, and vigorous, supported by an un- 
daunted spirit, and a mind ever fruitful in resources, he com- 
menced his mighty undertaking, almost unattended, in the winter 
of 1775, relying solely, for the execution of his object, on such aid 
as he might procure from the thinly scattered inhabitants of the 



HENRY KNOX. 149 

dreary region through which he had to pass. Every obstacle of 
season, roads, and climate, was surmounted by determined perse- 
verance ; and a few weeks, scarcely sufficient for a journey so re- 
mote, saw him return, laden with ordnance and the stores of war — 
di-awn in defiance of every obstacle over the frozen lakes and 
mountains of the north. Most acceptable was this offering to our 
defenceless troops, and most welcome to the commander-in-chief, 
who well knew how to appreciate a service so important. This 
expedition stamped the character of him who performed it for 
deeds of enterprise and daring. He received the most flattering 
testimony of approbation from the commander-in-chief and from 
congress, and was in consequence of this important service ap- 
pointed to the command of the artillery, of which he had thus laid 
the foundation, — in which command he continued with increasing 
reputation tlu-ough the revolutionary war. 

Among the incidents that occurred during the expedition to 
Canada, was his accidental meeting with the unfortunate Andre, 
whose subsequent fate was so deeply deplored by every man of 
feeling in both nations. His deportment as a soldier and gentle- 
man so far interested general Ivnox, in his favor, that he often af- 
terward expressed the most sincere regret, that he was called by 
duty, to act on the tribunal that pronounced his condemnation. 

During the continuance of the war, the corps of artillery was 
principally employed with the main body of the army, and near 
the person of the commander-in chief, and was relied on as an es- 
sential auxiliary in the most important battles. 

Trenton and Princeton witnessed his enterprise and valor. At 
that critical period of our affairs, when hope had almost yielded to 
despair, and the great soul of Washington trembled for his coun- 
try's freedom, Knox was one of those that strengthened his hand, 
and encouraged his heart. At that awful moment, when the tem- 
pest raged with its greatest fury, he, with Greene and other heroes, 
stood as pillars of the temple of liberty, till the fury of the storm 
was past. 

The letters of general Knox, still extant, written in the darkest 

periods of the revolution, breathe a spirit of devotedness to the 

cause in which he had embarked, and a firm reliance on the favor 

of Divine Providence ; from a perusal of these letters it is evident, 

14 



150 HENRV KNOX. 

that he never yielded to despondency, but in the most critical mo- 
ments of the war, confidently anticipated its triumphant issue. 

In the bloody fields of Germantown and Monmouth, without 
derogating from the merits of others, it may be said, that during the 
whole of these hard fought battles, no oflicer was more distinguished 
for the discharge of the arduous duties of his command, — in the 
front of the battle, he was seen animating his soldiers and pointing 
the thunder of their cannon. His skill and bravery were so con- 
spicuous on the latter occasion, that he received the particular ap- 
probation of the commander-in-chief, in general orders issued by 
him the day succeeding that of the battle, in which he saj's, that 
"the enemy have done them the justice to acknowledge, that no 
artillery could be better served than ours." But his great exer- 
tions on that occasion, together with the extreme heat of the day, 
produced the most alarming consequences to his health. To these 
most important scenes, his services were not confined; with a zeal 
devoted to our cause, he was ever at the post of danger — and the 
immortal hero, who stands first on the list of heroes and of men, 
has often expressed his sense of these services. In every field of 
battle where Washington fought, Knox was by his side. The con- 
fidence of the commander-in-chief, inspired by early services, was 
thus matured by succeeding events. There can be no higher tes- 
timony to his merits, than that during a war of so long continuance, 
passed almost constantly in the presence of Washington, he uni- 
formly retained his confidence and esteem, which at their separa- 
tion had ripened into friendship and affection. The parting inter- 
view between general Knox and his illustrious and beloved chief, 
after the evacuation of New-York by the British, and Knox had 
taken possession of it, at the head of a detachment of our army, 
was inexpressibly affecting. The hour of their separation having 
arrived, Washington, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand and 
embraced him in silence, and in tears. His letters to the last mo- 
ment of his life, contain the most flattering expressions of his una- 
bated friendship. Honorable to himself as had been the career 
of his revolutionary services, new laurels were reserved for him at 
the siege of York-Town. To the successful result of this mem- 
orable siege, the last brilliant act of our revolutionary contest, no 
officer contributed more essentially thaji the commander of the 



HENRY KNOX. 151 

artillery. His animated exertions, his military skill, his cool and 
determined bravery in this triumphant struggle, received the 
unanimous approbation of his brethren in arms, and he was imme- 
diately created major-general by congress, at the recommendation 
of the commander-in-chief, with the concurrence of the whole 
army. 

"The capture of lord Cornwallis, closed the contest, and with 
it his military life. Having contributed so essentially to the suc- 
cessful termination of the war, he was selected as one of the com- 
missioners to adjust the terms of peace, which service he performed 
in conjunction with his colleagues, much to the satisfaction of his 
country. He was deputed to receive the surrender of the city of 
New- York, and sooij after appointed to the command of West 
Point. It was here that he was employed in the delicate and ar- 
duous duty of disbanding the army, and inducing a soldiery, dispo- 
sed to turbulence by their privations and sufferings, to retire todc- 
mestic life, and resume the peaceful character of citizens. 

"It is a fact most honorable to his character, that by his coun- 
tenance and support, he rendered the most essential aid to Wash- 
ington, in suppressing that spirit of usurpation which had been in- 
dustriously fomented by a few unprincipled and aspiring men, 
whose aim was the subjugation of the country, to a military gov- 
ernment. No hope of a political elevation, no flattering assurances 
of aggrandizement, could tempt him to build his greatness on the 
ruin of his country. 

"The great objects of the war being accomplished, and peace 
restored to our country, general Knox, was, early under the con- 
federation, appointed secretary of war by congress, in which ofnce 
he was confirmed by president Washington, after the establishment 
of the federal government. The duties of this office were ulti- 
mately increased, by having those of the navy attached to them — 
to the establishment of which his counsel and exertion eminently 
contributed. He differed in opinion from some other members of 
the cabinet on this most interesting subject. One of the greatest 
men whom our country has produced, has uniformly declared that 
he considered America much indebted to his efforts for the creation 
of a power which has already so essentially advanced her respect- 
ability and fame. 



152 HENRY KJVOX. 

"Having filled the office of the war department for eleven years, 
he obtamed the reluctant consent of president Washington to retire, 
that he might give his attention to the claims of a mumerous and in- 
creasing family. This retirementwas in concurrence with the wish- 
es of Mi-s. Knox, who had accompanied him through the trying 
vicissitudes of war, shared with him its toils and perils, and who 
was now desirous of enjoying the less busy scenes of domestic 
life. A portion of the large estates of her ancestor, general Wal- 
do, had descended to her, which he, by subsequent purchase in- 
creased, till it comprised the whole Waldo patent, an extent of 
thirty miles square, and embracing a considerable part of that sec- 
tion of Maine, which now constitutes the counties of Lincoln, 
Hancock, and Penobscot. To these estates he retired from all 
concern in public life, honored as a soldier, and beloved as a man, 
devoting much of his time to their settlement and improvement. 
He was induced repeatedly to take a share in the government of 
the state, both in the house of representatives and in the council, 
in the discharge of whose several duties he employed his wisdom 
and experience with the greatest assiduity. 

"In 1798, when the French insults and injuries towards this 
country called for resistance, he was one of those selected to com- 
mand our armies, and to protect our liberty and honor from the ex- 
pected hostilities of the French directory : happily for our country, 
their services were not required. 

"Retired from the theatre of active life, he still felt a deep inte- 
rest in the prosperity of his country. To that portion of it which 
he had chosen for his residence, his exertions were more immedi- 
ately directed. His views, like his soul, were bold and magnif- 
icent; his ardent mind could not wait the ordinary course of time 
and events; it outstripped the progress of natural improvement. 
Had he possessed a cold, calculating mind, he might have left be- 
hind him, the most ample wealth ; but he would not have been more 
highly valued by his country, or more beloved by his friends. He 
died at Montpelier, his seatinThomaston, 25th of October, 1806, 
from sudden internal inflammation, at the age of fifty-six, from the 
full vigor of health. 

"The great qualities of general Knox were not merely those of 
the hero and the statesman ; with these were combined those of 



HENRY KNOX. 153 

the elegant scholar and the accomplished gentleman. There have 
been those as brave and as learned, but rarely a union of such 
valor with so much urbanity — a mind so great, yet so free from 
OS' eiitation. 

"Philaathropy filled his heart; in his benevolence there was 
no reserve — it was as diffusive as the globe, and extensive as the 
family of man. His feelings were strong and exquisitely tender. 
In the domestic circle, they shone with peculiar lustre — here the 
husband, the father, and the friend, beamed in every smile — and 
if at any time a cloud overshadowed his own spirit, he strove to 
prevent its influence from extending to those that were dear to him. 
He was frank, generous, and sincere, and in his intercourse with 
the world, uniformly just. His house was ihe seat of elegant 
hospitality, and his estimate of wealth was its power of diffusing 
happiness. ' To the testimony of private friendship, may be added 
that of less partial strangers, who have borne witness both to his 
public and private virtues. Lord Moira, who is now perhaps the 
greatest general that England can boast of, has, in a late publica- 
tion, spoken in high terms of his military talents. Nor should the 
opinion of the marquis Chattleleux be omitted. 'As for general 
Knox,' he says, 'to praise him for his military talents alone, would 
be to deprive him of half the eulogium he merits ; a man of under- 
standing, well informed, gay, sincere, and honest — it is impossible 
to know without esteeming him, or to see without loving him. 
Thus have the English, without intention, added to the ornaments 
of the human species, by awakening talents where they least 
wished or expected.' Judge Marshall also, in his life of Wash- 
ington, thus speaks of him: 'Throughout the contest of the rev- 
olution, this officer had continued at the head of the American ar- 
tillery, and from being a colonel of a regiment, had been promo- 
ted to the rank of major-general. In this important station, he 
had preserved a high military character, and on the resignation of 
general Lincoln, had been appointed secretary of war. To his 
great services, and to unquestionable integrity, he was admitted to 
unite a sound understanding; and the public judgment, as well as 
that ofthe chief magistrate, pronounced him in all respects compe- 
tent to the station he filled. The president was highly gratified in 
beheving that his public duty comported with his private inclina- 
14* 



154 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 

tion, in nominating general Knox, to the office which had been 
conferred on him under the former government.' " 



ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, 
Major-General in the American Armt. 

General St. Clair was a soldier from his youth. At an ear- 
ly age, while the independent states were yet British colonies, he 
entered the royal American army, and ^vas commissioned as an 
ensign. He was actively engaged, daring the French war, in the 
army of general Wolfe, and was in the battle, carrying a pair of 
colors, in which that celebrated commander was slain, on the plains 
of Abraham. He was highly esteemed by the distinguished com- 
manders under whom he served, as a young officer of merit, capa- 
ble of obtaining a high grade of military reputation. 

"After the peace of 1763, he sold out and entered into trade, 
for which the generosity of his nature utterly disqualified him ; 
he, of course soon became disgusted with a profitless pursuit, and 
having married, after several vicissitudes of fortune, he located 
himself in Ligonier valley, west of the Allegheny mountains, 
and near the ancient route from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. 

"In this situation the American revolution found him, surroun- 
ded by a rising family, in the enjoyment of ease and independence, 
with the fairest prospects of affluent fortune, the foundation of 
which had been already established by his intelligence, industry, 
and enterprise. 

"From this peaceful abode, these sweet domestic enjoyments, 
and the flattering prospects which accompanied them, he was 
di'awn by the claims of a troubled country. A man known to have 
been a military officer, and distinguished for knowledge and integ- 
rity, could not in those times be concealed, even by his favorite 
mountains, and therefore, without application or expectation on his 
part, he received the commission of a colonel, in the month of 
December, 1775, together with a letter from president Hancock, 
pressing him to repair immediately to Philadelphia. He obeyed 
the summons, and took leave not only of his wife and children, 
but, in effect, of his fortune, to embark in the cause of liberty, 
and the united colonies In six weeks he completed the levy of a 
regiment of seven hundred and fifty men ; six companies of which 



ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 155 

marched in season to join our troops before Quebec ; he followed 
with the other four in May, and after the unlucky affair at Three 
rivers, by his counsel to general Sullivan at Sorel, he saved the 
army he had in Ct^nad^. — Wilkinson's Memoirs. 

The active and persevering habits of St. Clair, and his military 
knowledge, as displayed by him during the Canadian campaign, 
brought him into high repute, and he was subsequently pi-omoted 
to the rank of major-general. On all occasions he supported an 
honorable distinction, and shared largely in the confidence and 
friendship of the commander-in-chief. 

The misfortunes attending the early military operations of the 
northern campaign of 1777, did not fail to bring reproach upon 
the character of those who conducted it. The loss of Ticondero- 
ga and Fort Independence, and the subsequent retreat of general 
St. Clair, cast a gloom over the minds of patriotic men, and in 
their consequences gave rise to the malignant passions of the hu- 
man heart, which were put in motion to depreciate the worth, im- 
pair the influence, and destroy the usefulness of generals Schuyler 
and St. Clair. It was proclaimed that they were traitors to their 
country, and acted in concert with the enemy ; and the ignorant 
and credulous were led to believe that they had received an im- 
mense treasure in silver balls, fired by Burgoyne into St. Clair's 
camp, and by his order picked up and transmitted to Schuyler, at 
Fort George 1 Extravagant as was this tale, it was implicitly be- 
lieved. 

At the time of the evacuation of Ticonderoga by St. Clair, 
which so much exasperated the people, general Schuyler was ab- 
sent upon a diff'erent duty, and was totally ignorant of the fact, 
though the commanding officer in that district, General St. Clair, 
in accordance with the opinion of a council of war, ordered the 
movement on his own responsibility, and thereby saved the state 
of New-York from British domination, and his gallant army from 
capture. Stung with the injustice of a charge against general 
Schuyler, for an act for which he alone was responsible, he mag- 
nanimously wrote the following letter to the honorable John Jay, 
on the subject: 

''Moses' creel', July 25, 1775. 
"Sir — General Schuyler was good enougl\ to read to me a part 



156 ARTHUR ST. CLAIS. 

of a letter he received last night from you, I cannot recollect that 
any of my officers -ever asked my reasons for leaving Ticondero- 
ga : but as I have found the measure much decried, I have often 
expressed myself in this manner: "That as to myself I was per- 
fectly easy ; I was conscious of the uprightness and propriety of 
my conduct, and despised the vague censure of an uninformed 
populace;" but had no allusion to an order from general Schuyler 
for my justification, because no such order existed. 

"The calumny thrown on general Schuyler on account of that 
matter, has given me great uneasiness. I assure you, sir, there 
never was anything more cruel and unjust; for he isnew nothing 
of tlie matter until it was over, more than you did at Kingston. — 
It was done in consequence of a consultation with the other gen- 
eral officers, without the possibility of general Schuyler's concur- 
rence; and had the opinion of that council been contrary to what 
it was, it would nevertheless have taken place, because I knew it 
to be impossible to defend the post with our numbers. 

"In my letter to congress from Fort Edward, in which I gave 
them an account of the retreat, in this paragraph : "It was my ori- 
ginal design to retreat to this place, that I might be betwixt gen- 
eral Burgoyne and the inhabitants, and that the militia might have 
something in this quarter to collect to. It is now effected, and the 
militia are coming in, so that I have the most sanguine hopes that 
the progress of the enemy will be checked, and I may have the 
satisfaction to experience, that aZi/iOM^A I have lost a post, I have 
eventtially saved a state.'''' 

"Whether my conjecture is right or not, is uncertain; but had 
our army been made prisoners, which it certainly would have been, 
the state of New-York would have been much more exposed at 
present. 

"I proposed to general Schuyler, on my arrival at Fort Edward, 
to have sent a note to the printer, to assure the people he had no 
part in abandoning what they considered their strong holds; he 
thought it was not so proper at that time; but it is no more than 
what I owe to truth, and to him, to declare, that he was totally un- 
acquainted with the matter; and I should be very glad that this 
letter, or any part of it you may think proper to communicate, 
may convince the unbelieving. Simple unbelief is easily and 



ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 157 

soon convinced; but when malice or envy occasions it, it is need- 
less to attempt conviction. 

"I am, sir, your very humble and obedient servant, 

"ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
"Hon. John Jay." 

Congress, yielding to personal prejudices, and the popular out- 
cry, produced by the evacuation of that post, passed the following 
resolutions: 

^^Resohed, That an inquiry be made into the reasons of the 
evacuation of Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, and into 
the conduct of the general officers who were in the northern de- 
partment at the time of the evacuation. 

^'■Resolved, That major-general St. Clair, who commanded at 
Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, forthwith repair to head- 
quarters." 

The conduct of congress towards this respectable, able, and 
faithful servant of the republic, was considered altogether unwar- 
rantable, and, in the result, drew great and deserved odium on its 
authors. After holding St. Clair in cruel suspense for more than 
a year, he was permitted to appear before a general court-martial, 
wliich passed the foUoAving sentence of acquittal : 

''Quaker-Hill, Sept. 29, 1778. 
"The court having duly considered the charges against major- 
general St. Clair, and the evidence, are unanbnoushj of opinion, 
that he is not guilty of either of the charges preferred against 
him, and do unanimously acquit him of all and every one of them 
with the highest honor. 

"B. LINCOLN, major-general and president.'''' 

From this time general St. Clair continued in the service of his 
country until the close of the war. Soon after the establishment 
of the national government, general St. Clair was appointed gov- 
ernor of the north-west territory. But he did not long enjoy the 
calm and quiet of civil life. The repeated successes of the Indi- 
ans on the western frontier, had emboldened them to repeat and 
extend their incursions to an alarming degree. 

"The frontiers were in a most deplorable situation. For their 
relief congress sanctioned the raising of an additional regiment ; 
and the president was authorised to cause a body of two thousand 



158 AETHfR 3T. CLAIR. 

men, under the denomination of levies, to be raised for six month?, 
and to appoint a major-general and a brigadier-general, to continue 
in command as long as he should think their services necessary. 
St. Clair, who was then govern or of the territory north-west of the 
Ohio, and, as such, officially the negotiator with the adjacent Indi- 
ans, was appointed commander-in-chief of this new military es- 
tablishment. Though every exertion was made to recruit and 
forward the troops, they were not assembled in the neighborhood 
cf Fort Washington until the month of September, nor was the 
■establishment then completed. 

'•The object of the expedition was to destroy the Indian villages 
on the Miami; to expel the savages from that country; and to con- 
nect it with the Ohio by a chain of posts. The regulars, proceed- 
ing northwardly from the Ohio, established, at proper intervals, 
two forts, one named Hamilton, and the other Jefferson, as places 
of deposit and security. These were garrisoned with a small 
force; and the main body of the army, about two thousand men, 
advanced towards the Indian settlements. As they approached 
the enemy, about sixty militiamen deserted in a body. To pre- 
vent the mischiefs likely to result from so bad an example, major 
Ilamtranck was detached, with the first regiment, to pursue the 
deserters. The army was reduced by this detachment, to abou t 
fourteen hundred effective men; but, nevertheless, proceeded on 
their march and encamped on elevated ground, about fifteen miles 
south of the Miami. The Indians commenced an attack on thfi 
militia in front. These instantly fled in disorder, and, rushing 
into the camp, occasioned confusion among the regulars. The 
officers of the latter exerted themselves to restore order; but with 
very inconsiderable success. The Indians improved the advan- 
tage the)' had gained. They were seldom seen but in the act of 
springing from one cover to another ; for they fired from the ground, 
or under shelter of the woods. Advancing in this manner, close 
to the lines of their adversaries, and almost to the mouth of their 
field-pieces, they continued the contest with great firmness and in- 
trepidity. 

"General St. Clair, though suffering under a painful disease, 
and unable to mount or dismount a horse without assistance, de- 
livered his orders with judgment and perfect self-possession. The 



ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 159 

troops had not been in service long enough to acquire disciphne ; 
and the want of it increased the difficulty of reducing them to or- 
der after they had been broken. The officers, in their zeal to 
chance the face of affair-s, exposed themselves to imminent danger 
and fell in great numbers. Attempts were made to retrieve the 
fortune of the day by the use of the bayonet. Colonel Drake 
made a successful charge on a part of the enemy, and drove them 
four hundred yards; but they soon rallied. In the meantime 
general Butler was mortally wounded. Almost all the artillerists 
were killed, and their guns seized by the enemy. Colonel Drake 
again charged with the bayonet, and the artillery was recovered. 
While the Indians were driven back in one point, they kept up 
their fire from ever)' other with fatal effect. Several corps charged 
the Indians with partial success, but no general impression was 
made upon them. To save the remnant of his army, was all that 
could be done by St. Clair. After some hours of sharp fighting, 
a retreat took place. The Indians pursued for about four miles, 
when their avidity fur plunder called them back to the camp, to 
share the spoil. The vanquished troops fled about thirty miles, to 
Fort Jefierson. There they met major Hamtranck with the first 
regiment; but this additional force would not warrant an attempt 
to turn about and face the victors. The wounded were left there, 
and the army retreated to Fort Washington. 

"The loss in this defeat was great, and particularly so among 
the officers. Thirty-eight of these were killed on the field, and 
five hundred and ninety-three non-commissioned otficers and pri- 
vates were slain or missing. Twenty -one commissioned oflicers, 
and upwards of one hundred privates, were wounded. Among the 
dead was the gallant general Butler, who had repeatedly distin- 
guished himself in the war of the revolution. Several other brave 
officers, who had successfully fought for the independence of their 
country, fell on this fatal day. Among the wounded were lieu- 
tenant-colonels Gibson and Drake, major Butler, and adjutant Sar- 
gent, officers of distinguished merit. Neither the number of the 
Indians engaged, nor their loss, could be exactly ascertained : the 
former was supposed to be from one thousand to fifteen hundred, 
and the latter far short of what was sustained by St. Clair's 
army." — Ramsay's United States. 



160 ANTHONY WAYNE. 

When Washington heard of the destruction of the brave men 
and officers who fell in that battle, he went into a private room 
with one of his family, and indulged for a few moments his dis- 
tressed feehngs. He walked the floor with his hand pressed to 
his forehead, and said, "Here, in this very room, the night before 
his departure, I warned St. Clair to beware of surprise ! and yet 
that brave army surprised and cut to pieces ! Butler and a host 
of others slain!" 

Washington's feelings were naturally violent when excited, but 
quickly subdued by the fomness with which he practised self- 
controul. And after a few moments, he said, in a calm voice, 
*'St. Clair shall have justice; yes, long, faithful, and meritorious 
services shall have their claims." When the distressed St. Clair, 
worn down with age and disease, returned and visited him, he 
grasped the hand of Washington, which was kindly extended to 
him, and sobbed over it like a child. Many of the undeserved 
reproaches which were uttered against him, were silenced by the 
kind manner in which Washington continued to treat him. 

General St. Clair returned to his duties as governor of the 
territory north west of the Ohio river ; in which situation he con- 
tinued until the formation of the state of Ohio, in the year 1802. 
He died on the 31st of August, 1818, in Westmoreland county, 
Pennsylvania. 



ANTHONY WAYNE, 
Major-Genekal in the American Army. 
"Anthony Wayne, a major-general in the American army, 
occupies a conspicuous station among the heroes and patriots of 
the American revolution. He was born in the year 1745, in 
Chester county, in the state, then colony, of Pennsylvania. His 
father, who was a respectable farmer, was many years a represen- 
tative for the county of Chester, in the general assembly, before 
the revolution. His grandfather, who was distinguished for his 
attachment to the principles of liberty, bore a captain's commission 
under king William, at the battle of the Boyne. Anthony Wayne 
succeeded his father as representative for the county of Chester, 
in the year 1773, and from his first appearance in public life, dis- 
tinguished himself as a firm and decided patriot. He opposed, 



ANTHONY WAYNE. 161 

with much ability, the unjust demands of the mother country, and 
in connexion with some gentlemen of distinguished talents, was 
of material service in preparing the way for the firm and decisive 
part which Pennsylvania took in the general contest. 

"In 1776, he was appointed to the command of a regiment, 
which his character enabled him to raise in a few weeks, in his 
native county. In the same year he was detached under general 
Thompson into Canada. In the defeat which followed, in which 
general Thompson was made a prisoner, colonel Wayne, though 
wounded, displayed great gallantry and good conduct, in collecting 
and bringing off the scattered and broken bodies of troops. 

*'In the campaign of 1776, he served under general Gates at 
Ticonderoga, and was highly esteemed by that officer, for both his 
bravery and skill as an engineer. At the close of that campaign 
he was made a brigadier-general. 

"At the battle of Brandy wine, he behaved with his usual bra- 
very, and for a long time opposed the progress of the enemy at 
Chad's ford. In this action, the inferiority of the Americans in 
jiumber.^;, discipline, and arms, gave them little chance of success; 
but the peculiar situation of the public mind was supposed to re- 
quire a battle to be risked: the ground was bravely disputed, and 
the action was not considered as decisive. The spirit of the troops 
was preserved by a belief that the loss of the enemy had equalled 
their own. As it was the intention of the American commander- 
in-chief, to hazard another action on the first favorable opportunity 
tliat should offer, general Wayne was detached with his division, 
to harrass the enemy by every means in his power. The British 
troops were encamped at Tredyffrin, and general Wayne was 
stationed about three miles in the rear of their left wing, near the 
Paoli tavern, and from the precaution he had taken, he considered 
himself secure; but about eleven o'clock, on the night of the 20th 
of September, major-general Gray, having driven his pickets, sud- 
denly attacked him with fixed bayonets. Wayne, unable to with- 
stand the superior number of assailants, Avas obliged to retreat ; but 
formed again at a small distance, having lost about one hundred 
and fifty killed and wounded. As blame was attached by some of 
the officers of the army to general Wayne, for allowing himself to 
be surprised in this manner, he demanded a court martial, which, 
15 



162 ^ ANTHONY WAYNE. 

after examining the necessary evidence, declared that he had done 
every thing to be expected from an active, brave, and vigilant of- 
ficer; and acquittedTiim with honor. 

"A neat marble monument has been recently erected on the 
battle ground, to the memory of the gallant men who fell on the 
night of the 20th September, 1777. 

"Shortly after was fought the battle of Germantown, in which 
he greatly Signalized himself, by his spirited manner of leading 
his men into action. In this action he had one horse shot under 
him, and another as he was mounting ; and at the same instant re- 
ceived slight wounds in the left foot and left hand. 

"In all councils of war, general Wayne was distinguished for 
supporting the most energetic and decisive measures. In the one 
previous to the battle of Monmouth, he and general Cadwallader 
were the only officers decidedly in favor of attacking the British 
army. The American officers are said to have been influenced 
by the opinions of the Europeans. The baron de Steuben, and 
generals Lee and Du Portail, whose military skill was in high es- 
timation, had warmly opposed an engagement, as too hazardous. 
But general Washington, whose opinion was in favor of an en- 
gagement, made such disposition as would be most likely to lead to 
it. In that action, so honorable to the American arms, general 
Wayne was conspicuous in the ardor of his attack. General 
Washington, in his letter to congress, observes, 'Were I to con- 
clude my account of this day's transactions without expressing 
my obligations to the officers of the army in general, I should do 
injustice to their merit, and violence to my own feelings. They 
seemed to vie with each other in manifesting their zeal and bra- 
very. The catalogue of those who distinguished themselves is 
too long to admit of particularizing individuals. I cannot, how- 
ever, forbear mentioning brigadier-general Wayne, whose good 
conduct and bravery, throughout the whole action, deserves pecu- 
liar commendation.' 

"Among the many exploits of gallantry and prowess, which 
shed a lustre on the fame of our revolutionary army, the storming 
of the fort at Stony Point has always been considered as one of 
the most brilliant. 

'^To general Wayne, who commanded the light infantry of the 



ANTHONY WAYNE. * 163 

army, the execution of the plan was intrusted. Secrecy was 
deemed so much more essential to success than numbers, that it 
was thought unadvisable to add to the force already on the lines. 
One brigade was ordered to commence its march, so as to reach 
the scene of action in time to cover the troops engaged in the at- 
tack, in case of an unlooked for disaster; and major Lee, of the 
light-dragoons, who had been eminently useful in obtaining the 
intelligence which led to the enterprise, was associated with gene- 
ral Wayne, as far ascavalr)- could be employed in such a service. 
"The night of the 15th of July, 1779, was fixed on for the as- 
sault; and it being suspected that the garrison would probably be 
more on their guard towards day, twelve was chosen for the hour. 
"Stony Point is a commanding hill, projecting far into the Hud- 
son, which washes three-fourths of its base; the remaining fourth 
is in a great measure covered by a deep marsh, commencing 
near the river on the upper side, and continuing to it below. Over 
this marsh there is only one crossing place. But at its junction 
with the river is a sandy beach, passable at low tide. On the sum- 
mit of this hill was erected the fort, which was furnished with a 
sufficient number of heavy pieces of ordnance. Several breast- 
works and strong batteries were advanced in front of the princi- 
pal work, and about half way down the hill, were two rows of 
abattis. The batteries were calculated to command the beach 
and the crossing place of the marsh, and to rake and infilade any 
column which might be advancing from either of those points to- 
wards the fort. In addition to these defences several vessels of 
war were stationed in the river, so as, in a considerable degree, to 
command the ground at the foot of the hill. 

"The fort was garrisoned by about six hundred men, under the 
command of lieutenant-colonel Johnson. 

"At noon of the day preceding the night of attack, the light-in- 
fantry commenced their march from Sandy beach, distant fourteen 
miles from Stony Point, and passing through an excessively rugged 
and mountainous country, arrived about eight in the afternoon at 
Spring Steel's, one and a half miles from the fort, where the dis- 
positions for the assault were made. 

"It was intended to attack the works on the riffht and left flanks 
at the same instant. The regiment of Febiger, and of Meiggs, 



164 ANTHONY WAYNE. 

u ith major Hull's detachment, formed the right column, and But- 
ler's regiment, with two companies under major Murphy, formed 
the left. One hundred and fifty volunteers, led by lieutenant-co- 
lonel Fleury, and major Posey, constituted the van of the right ; 
and one hundred volunteers under major Stuart, composed the van 
of the left. At half past eleven the two columns moved on to the 
charge, the van of each, with unloaded muskets and fixed bayonets. 
They were each preceded by a forlorn hope of twenty men, the 
one commanded by lieutenant Gibbon, and the other by lieuten- 
ant Knox, whose duty it was to remove the abattis and other ob- 
structions, in order to open a passage for the columns which fol- 
lowed close in the rear. 

"Proper measures having been taken to secure every individu- 
al on the route, who could give intelligence of their approach, the 
Americans reached the marsh undiscovered. But unexpected dif- 
ficulties having been experienced in surmounting this and other 
obstructions in the way, the assault did not commence until twenty 
minutes after twelve. Both columns then rushed forward under 
a tremendous fire of musketry and grapeshot. Surmounting every 
obstacle, they entered the works at the point of the bayonet, and 
without having discharged a single piece, obtained complete poss es- 
sion of the post. 

"The humanity displayed by the conquei'ors was not less con- 
spicuous, nor less honorable, than their courage. Not a single 
individual suffered after resistance had ceased. 

"All the troops engaged in this perilous service, manifested a 
degree of ardor and impetuosity which proved them to be capable 
of the most difficult entei-prises ; and all distinguished themselves 
whose situation enabled them to do so. Colonel Fleury was the 
first to enter the fort, and strike the British standard. Major Posey 
mounted the works almost at the same instant, and was the first 
to give the watch-word — "The fort's our own." Lieutenants 
Gibbon and Knox, performed the service allotted to them, with a 
degree of intrepidity which could not be surpassed. Out of twenty 
men who constituted the party of the former, seventeen were 
killed or wounded. 

"The loss sustained by the garrison was not considerable. The 
return made by lieutenant-colonel Johnson, represented their dead 



ANTHOM' WAYNE. 165 

at only twenty, including one captain, and then- wounded at six 
officers and sixty-eight privates. The return made by general 
Wayne, states their dead at sixty-three, including two officers. 
This difference may be accounted for, by supposing that among 
those colonel Johnson supposed to be missing, there were many 
killed. The prisoners amounted to five hundred and forty-three, 
among whom, were one lieutenant-colonel, four captains, and 
twenty subaltern officers. The military stores taken in the fort, 
were also considerable. 

"The loss sustained by the assailants was by no means propor- 
tioned to the apparent danger of the enterprise. The killed and 
wounded did not exceed one hundred men. General Wayne, him- 
self, who marched at the head of Febigers regiment in the right 
column, received a slight wound in the head, which stunned him 
for a time, but did not compel him to leave the column. Being 
supported by his aids, he entered the fort w itb the regiment. — 
Lieutenant-colonel Hay, was also an\ong the wounded." — Mar- 
shall's Life of Washington. 

"The intrepidity, joined with humanity, its noblest companion, 
displayed on that occasion by general Wayne, and his brave fol- 
lowers, cannot be too highly esteemed nor too frequently com- 
memorated. 

^'■General Orders for the Attack. 

"The troops will march at o'clock, and move by the right, 

making a halt at the creek or run, on this side, next Clement's ; 
every officer and non-commissioned officer will remain with, and 
be answerable for every man in his platoon ; no soldier to be per- 
mitted to quit his ranks on any pretext whatever, until a general 
halt is made, and then to be attended by one of the officers of the 
platoon. 

"When the head of the troops arrive in the rear of the hill, 
colonel Febiger will form his regiment into a solid column of a 
half platoon in front as fast as they come up. Colonel Meiggs 
will form next in colonel Febiger's rear, and major Hull in the 
rear of Meiggs, which w ill form the right column. 

"Colonel Butler will form a column on the left of Febiger, and 
major Murphy in the rear. Every officer and soldier will then 
15* 



166 ANTHONY WAYNE. 

fix a piece of white paper in the most conspicuous part of liis hat 
or cap, as a mark to distinguish them from the enemy. 

"At the word march, colonel Fleury will take charge of one 
hundred'and fifty determined and picked men, properly officered, 
with arms unloaded, placing their whole dependence on fixed bay- 
one fs, who will move about twenty paces in front of the right 
column, and enter the sallyport: he is to detach an officer and 
twenty men a little in front, whose business will be to secure the 
sentries, and remove the abattis and obstructions for the column 
to pass through. The column will follow close in the rear with 
shouldered muskets, led by colonel Febiger and general Wayne 
in person : — when the works are forced, and not before, the victo- 
rious troops, as they enter, will give the watch-word 

with repeated and loud voices, and drive the enemy from their 
works and guns, which will favor the pass of the whole troops; 
should the enemy refuse to surrender, or attempt to make their 
escape by water or otherwise, effectual means must be used to et- 
fect the former and prevent the latter. 

"Colonel Butler will move by the route (2,) preceded by one 
hundred chosen men with fixed bayonets, properly officered, at the 
distance of twenty yards in front of the column, which will follow 
under colonel Butler, v/ith shouldered muskets. These hundred 
will also detach a proper officer and twenty men a little in front, 
to remove the obstructions; as soon as they gain the works they 
will also give and continue the -watch-word, Avhich will prevent 
confusion and mistake. 

"If any soldier presume to take his musket from his shoulder, 
or to fire, or begin the battle, until ordered by his proper officer, 
he shall be instantly put to death by the officer next to him; for 
the misconduct of one man is not to put the whole troops in dan- 
ger or disorder, and he be suffered to pass with his life. 

"After the troops begin to advance to the w^orks, the strictest 
silence must be observed, and the closest attention paid to the com- 
mands of the officers. 

"The general has the fullest confidence in the bravery and for- 
titude of the corps he has the happiness to command — the distin- 
guished honor conferred on every officer and soldier who has been 
drafted into this corps by his excellency general Washington, the 



ANTHONV WAYNE. 167 

credit of the states they respectively belong to, and tlieir OAvn rep- 
utations, will be such powerful motives for each man to distin- 
guish himself, that the general cannot have the least doubt of a 
glorious victory; and he hereby most solemnly engages to reward 
the first man that enters the works with five hundred dollars and 
immediate promotion, to the second four hundred dollars, to the 
third three hundred dollars, to the fourth two hundred dollars, and 
to the fifth one hundred dollars ; and will represent the conduct of 
every oflicer and soldier who distinguishes himself in this action, 
in the most favorable point of view to his excellency, whose great- 
est pleasure is in rewarding merit. 

"But should there be any soldier so lost to every feeling of hon- 
or as to attempt to retreat one single foot, or skulk in the face of 
danger, the oflicer next to him is immediately to put him to death, 
that he may no longer disgrace the name of a soldier, or the corps 
or state he belongs to. 

"As general Wayne is determined to share the danger of the 
night — so he wishes to participate in the glory of the day in com- 
mon with his fellow-soldiers." — Analcctic Magazine. 

"Immediately after the surrender of Stony Point, general Wayne 
transmitted to the commander-in-chief the following laconic let- 
ter:— 

"Stony Point, July 16, 1779, 2 o'clock, A. M. 

Dear General — The fort and garrison, with colonel Johnson, 
are ours ; our officers and men behaved like men determined to be 
free. 

"Yours most sincerely, 

ANTHONY WAYNE. 

"Gen. Washixgton." 

"In the campaign of 1781, in which lord Cornwallis and a Brit- 
ish army were obliged to surrender prisoners of war, he bore a 
conspicuous part. His presence of mind never failed him in the 
most critical situations. Of this he gave an eminent example on 
the James river. Having been deceived by some false informa- 
tion, into a belief that the British army had passed the river, leav- 
ing but the rear-guard behind, he hastened to attack the latter be- 
fore it should also have effected its passage ; but on pushing through 
a morass and wood, instead of the rear-guard, he found the whole 



168 ANTHONY WAYi\E. 

British army drawn up close to him. His situation did not admit 
of a moment's deliberation. Conceiving the boldest to be the saf- 
est measure, he immediately led his small detachment, not ex- 
ceeding eight hundred men, to the charge, and after a short, but 
very smart and close firing, in which he lost one hundred and 
eighteen of his men, he succeeded in bringing off the rest under 
cover of the wood. Lord Cornwallis suspecting the attack to be 
a feint, in order to draw him into an ambuscade, would not per- 
mit his troops to pursue. 

"The enemy having made a considerable head in Georgia, 
Wayne was despatched by general Washington to take the com- 
mand of the forces in that state, and, after some sanguinary en- 
gagements, succeeded in establishing security and order. For 
his service in that state, the legislature presented him with a val- 
uable farm. 

"On the peace which followed shortly after, he retired to pri- 
vate life; but in 1789, we find him a member of the Pennsylvania 
convention, and one of those in favor of the present federal con- 
stitution of the United States. 

"In the year 1792 he was appointed to succeed general St. 
Clair, who had resigned the command of the army engaged a- 
gainst the Indians on our western frontier. Wayne formed an 
encampment at Pittsburg, and such exemplary discipline was in- 
troduced among the new troops, that, on their advance into the In- 
dian country, they appeared like veterans. 

"The Indians had collected in great numbers, and it was neces- 
sary not only to rout them, but to occupy their country by a chain 
of posts, that should, for the future, check their predatory incur- 
sions. Pursuing this regular and systematic mode of advance, 
the autumn of 1793 found general Wayne Avith his army at a post 
in the wilderness, called Greenville, about six miles in advance of 
Fort Jefferson, where he determined to encamp for the winter, in 
order to make the necessary arrangements for opening the cam- 
paign to effect early in the following spring. After fortifying his 
camp, he took possession of the ground on which the Americans 
had been defeated in 1791, which he fortified also, and called the 
work Fort Recovery. Here he piously collected, and, with the 
honors of war, interred the bones of the unfortunate, although 



ANTHONY WAVNE. 169 

gallant victims, of the 4th November, 1791. The situation of the 
army, menacing the Indian villages, effectually prevented any at- 
tack on the white settlements. The impossibility of procuring the 
necessary supplies, prevented the march of the troops till the 
summer. On the 8th of August, the army arrived at the junction 
of the rivers Auglaize and Miami of the lakes,- where they erected 
works for the protection of the stores. About thirty miles from 
this place the British had formed a post, in the vicinity of which 
the Indians had assembled their whole force. On the 15th the 
army again advanced down the Miami, and on the 18th arrived at 
the Rapids. On the following day the}" erected some works for 
the protection of the baggage. The situation of the enemy was 
reconnoitered, and they were found posted in a thick wood, in the 
rear of the British fort. On the 20th, the army advanced to the 
attack. The Miami covered the right flank, and on the left were 
the mounted volunteers, commanded by general Todd. After 
marching about five miles, major Price, who led the advance, re- 
ceived so heavy a fire from the Indians, who were stationed be- 
hind trees, that he was compelled to fall back. The enemy had 
occupied a wood in the front of the British fort, which, from the 
quantity of the fallen timber, could not be entered by the horse. 
The legion was immediately ordered to advance with trailed arms, 
and rouse them from their covert : the cavalry under captain Camp- 
bell, were directed to pass between the Indians and the river, 
while the volunteers, led by general Scott, made a circuit to turn 
their flank. So rapid, however, was the charge of the legion, 
that before the rest of the army could get into action, the enemy 
were completely routed, and driven through the woods for more 
than two miles, and the troops halted within gun shot of the British 
fort. All the Indians' houses and corn fields were destroyed. In 
this decisive action, the whole loss of general Wayne's army, in 
killed and wounded, amounted only to one hundred and seven men. 
As hostilities continued on the part of the Indians, their whole 
country was laid waste, and forts established, which effectually 
prevented their return. 

"The success of this engagement destroyed the enemy's poM er; 
and in the following year general Wayne concluded a definitive 
treaty of peace with them. 



170 PHILIP SCHUYLER. 

"A life of peril and glory was terminated in December, 179G. 
He had shielded his country from the murderous tomahawk of the 
savages. He had established her boundaries. He had forced her 
enemies to sue for her protection. He beheld her triumphant, 
rich in arts and potent in arms. What more could his patriotic 
spirit wish to see? He died in a hut at Presque Isle, aged about 
fifty-one years, and was buried on the shore of Lake Erie. 

"A few years since his bones were taken up by his son, Isaac 
Wayne, Esq. and entombed in his native county; and by direction 
of the Pennsylvania State Society of the Cincinnati, an elegant 
monument was erected. It is to be seen within the cemetry of St. 
David's church, situated in Chester county. It is constructed of 
white marble, of the most correct symmetry and beauty." — Amer- 
ican Biographical Dictionary. 



PHILIP SCHUYLER, 
Major-General in the American Army. 
General Schuyler was a native of New-York, a member 
of one of the most respectable families in that state, and highly 
merits the character of an intelligent and meritorious officer. — 
As a private gentleman, he was dignified and courteous, his man- 
ners urbane, and his hospitality unbounded. He was justly con- 
sidered as one of the most distinguished champions of liberty, and 
his noble mind soared above despair, even at a period when he 
experienced injustice from the public, and when darkness and 
gloom overspread the land/ He was able, prompt, and decisive, 
and his conduct, in every branch of duty, marked his active in- 
dustry and rapid execution. 

He received his commission from congress, June 19th, 1776, 
and was ordered to take command of the expedition against Can- 
ada; but, being taken sick, the command devolved upon general 
Montgomery. On his recovery, he devoted his time, and, with 
the assistance of general St. Clair, used every effort to stay the 
progress of a veteran and numerous army under Burgoyne, who 
had commenced his march from Canada, on the bold attempt of 
forming a junction at Albany with Sir Henry Clinton. 

The duties of general Schuyler now became laborious, intricate, 
and complicated. On his arrival at head quarters, he found the 



PHILIP SCHUYLER. 171 

army of the north not only too weak for the objects entrusted to it, 
but also badly supplied with arms, clothes and provisions. From 
a spy he obtained information that general Burgoyne had arrived 
at Quebec, and was to take command of the Bi'itish forces on their 
contemplated expedition. 

"A few days removed the doubts which might have existed re- 
specting the intentions of Burgoyne. It was understood that his 
army was advancing towards the lakes. General Schuyler was 
sensible of the danger which threatened his department, and made 
every exertion to meet it. He visited in person the different posts, 
used the utmost activity in obtaining supplies of provisions, to 
enable them to hold out in the event of a siege, and had proceeded 
to Albany, both for the purpose of attending to the supplies, and 
expediting the march of Nixon's brigade, whose arrival was ex- 
pected ; when he received intelligence from general St. Clair, who 
was entrusted with the defence of Ticonderoga, that Burgoyne 
had appeared before that place. 

"In the course of the preceding winter, a plan for penetrating 
to the Hudson from Canada, by the way of the lakes, was com- 
pletely digested, and its most minute parts arranged in the cabinet 
of St. James. General Burgoyne, who assisted in forming it, was 
entrusted with its execution, and was to lead a formidable army 
against Ticonderoga, as soon as the season would permit. At the 
same time a smaller party under colonel St. Leger, composed of 
Canadians, new raised Americans, and a few Europeans, aided by 
a powerful body of Indians, was to march from Oswego, to enter 
the country by way of the Mohawk, and to join the grand army 
on the Hudson. The force assigned for this service, was such as 
the general himself deemed sufficient; and, as it was the favorite 
plan of the minister, no circumstance was omitted, which could 
give to the numbers employed their utmost possible efficacy. The 
troops were furnished with every military equipment which the 
service required ; the assisting general officers were of the first 
5 reputation; and the train of artillery was, perhaps, the most power- 
ful ever annexed to any. army not more numerous." — An. Register. 

t Valor, perseverance, and industiy, could avail nothing against 
! such vast numbers as now assailed the northern army. Ticon- 



i 



172 PHILIP SCHUYLER. 

deroga was evacuated ,• and stores, artillery, and military equip- 
age, to an immense amount, fell into the hands of the enemy. 

"Knowing the inferiority of his numbers, and that he could 
only hope to save his army by the rapidity of his march, general 
St. Clair reached Charlestown, thirty miles from Ticonderoga, on 
the night succeeding the evacuation of the fort. 

"On the 7th of July, at Stillwater, on his way to Ticonderoga, 
general Schuyler was informed of the evacuation of that place ; 
and on the same day, at Saratoga, the total loss of the stores at 
Skeensborough was also reported to him. From general St. Clair 
he had heard nothing; and the most serious fears were entertained 
for the army commanded by that officer. His force, after being 
joined by colonel Long, consisted of about fifteen hundred conti- 
nental troops, and the same number of militia. They were dis- 
pirited by defeat, without tents, badly armed, and had lost a great 
part of their stores and baggage. That part of the country was 
generally much alarmed; and even those who were well affected, 
discovered, as is usual in such circumstances, more inclination to 
take care of themselves, than to join the army. 

"In this gloomy state of things, it is impossible that any officer 
could have used more diligence and judgment than was displayed 
by Schuyler. After the evacuation of Fort Anne, Burgoyne found 
it absolutely necessary to suspend, for a time, all further pursuit, 
and to give his army some refreshment. In the present state of 
things, unable even to look the enemy in the face, it was of un- 
speakable importance to the American general to gain time. — 
This short and unavoidable interval from action, therefore, was 
seized by Schuyler, whose head quarters were at Fort Edward, 
and used to the utmost advantage. 

"The country between Skeensborough and Fort Edward was 
almost entirely unsettled, covered with thick woods, of a surface 
extremely rough, and much intersected with creeks and morasses. 
As far as Fort Anne, Wood creek was navigable with batteaux; 
and artillery, military stores, provisions, and heavy baggage, 
might be transported up it. The first moments of rest, while 
Burgoyne was re-assembling his forces at Skeensborough, were 
employed by Schuyler in destroying the navigation of Wood creek, 
by sinking numerous impediments in its course ; and in breaking 



PHILIP SCHUYLER. 173 

up the bridges, and otherwise rendering impassable the roads over 
which the British army must necessarily pass. He was also inde- 
fatigable in driving all the live stock out of the way, and in bring- 
ing from Fort George to Fort Edward, ammunition and other 
military stores, which had been deposited at that plac€, of which 
his army was in much need, and which it was essential to bring 
away, before the British could remove their gun-boats and army 
into the lake, and possess tliemselves of the fort. 

"While thus endeavoring to obstruct the march of the enemy, 
he was not inattentive to the best means of strengthening his own 
army. Reinforcements of regular troops were earnestly solicited. 
The militia of New-England and New-York were called for; and 
all his influence in the surrounding country was exerted to re- 
animate the people, and to prevent their defection from the Amer- 
ican cause. 

"The evacuation of Ticonderoga was a shock for which no part 
of the Unhed States was prepared. Neither the strength of the 
invading army nor of the garrison, had been any where under- 
stood. The opinion was common, that no reinforcements had ar- 
rived at Quebec that spring, in which case it was believed that not 
more than five thousand men could be spared from the defence of 
Canada. Those new raised regiments of New-England and New- 
York, which had been allotted to the northern department, had been 
reported, and were believed by the commander-in-chief, and by 
congress, as well as the community at large, to contain a much 
greater number of effectives than they were actually found to 
comprehend. In addition to these, the officer commanding the 
garrison was empowered to call to his aid, such bodies of militia 
tis he might deem necessary for the defence of his post. A very 
few days before the place was invested, general Schuyler, from an 
inspection of the muster rolls, had stated the garrison to amount to 
five thousand men, and the supply of provisions to be abundant. 
When, therefore, it was understood that a place, on the fortifica- 
tions of which, much money and labor had been expended ; which 
was considered the key to the whole western country, and suppo- 
sed to contain a garrison nearly equal to the invading army, had 
been abandoned without a siege ; that an immense train of artil- 
lery, consisting of one hundred and twenty-eight pieces, and all 
16 



174 PHILIP SCHUYLER. 

the baggage, military stores, and provisions, had either fallen into 
the hands of the enemy, or been destroyed ; that the army on its 
retreat had been attacked, defeated, and dispersed; astonishment 
pervaded all ranks of men ; and the conduct of the officers was al- 
most universally condemned. Congress directed a recall of all 
the generals of the department, and an inquiry into their conduct. 
Through New-England, especiall)'^, the most malignant aspersions 
were cast on them j and general Schuyler, who, for some unknown 
cause, had never been viewed with favor in that part of the con- 
tinent, was involved in the common charges of treachery, to which 
this accumulation of unlooked for calamity, was very generally 
attributed by the mass of the people. 

"On the representations of general Washington, the recall of 
the officers was suspended until he should be of opinion that the 
state of things would admit of such a measure; and on a very full 
inquiry afterward made into the conduct of the generals, they 
were acquitted of all blame. 

"When the resolutions were passed, directing an inquiry into 
the conduct of Schuyler and St. Clair, appointing a committee to 
report on the mode of conducting the inquiry, and, in the mean- 
while, recalling them and all the brigadiers who had served in that 
department, general Washington was requested to name the suc- 
cessor of Schuyler. On his expressing a wish to decline this nom- 
ination, and representing the inconvenience of removing all the 
general officers, Gates was again directed to repair thither and 
take the command; and the resolution to recall the brigadiers 
was suspended, until the commander-in-chief should be of opinion 
that it might be carried into effect with safety. 

"Schuyler retained the command until the arrival of Gates, 
which was about the 21st of August, and continued his exertions 
to restore the affairs of the department, which had been so much 
depressed by the losses consequent on the evacuation of Ticonde- 
roga. This officer felt acutftly the disgrace of being recalled in 
this critical and interesting state of the campaign. 'It is,' said he, 
in a letter to the commander-in-chief, 'matter of extreme chagrin 
to me to be depi'ived of the command at a time when, soon if ever, 
we shall probably be enabled to face the enemy ; when we are on 
the point of taking ground, where they must attack to a disadvau- 



PHILIP SCHUVLER. 175 

tagc, should our force be inadequate to facing them in the field ; 
^vhen an opportunity will, in all probability, occur, in which I 
might evince that I am not what congress have too plainly insinu- 
ated by the resolution taking the command from me.' 

"If error be attributed to the evacuation of Ticonderoga, cer- 
tainly no portion of it was committed by Schuyler. His removal 
from the command was probably unjust and severe, as the mea- 
sure respected himself" — MarshdWs Life of Washington. 

The patriotism and magnanimity displayed by the ex-general, 
on this occasion, does him high honor. All that could have been 
effected to impede the progress of the British army, had been done 
already. Bridges were broken up, causeways destroyed, trees felled 
in every direction to retard the conveyance of stores and artillery. 
"On Gates' arrival, general Schuyler, without the slightest in- 
dication of ill humor, resigned his command, communicated all the 
intelligence he possessed, and put every interesting paper into his 
hands; simply adding, 'I have done all that could be done, as far 
as the means were in my power, to injure the enemy, and to in- 
spire conlidence in the soldiers of our army, and I flatter myself, 
with some success ; but the palm of victory is denied me, and it is 
left to you, general, to reap the fruits of my labors. I will not fail 
however, to second your views ; and my devotion to my country will 
cause me with alacrity to obey all your orders.' He performed 
his promise, and faithfully did his duty, till the surrender of Bur- 
goyne put an end to the contest. 

"Another anecdote is recorded to his honor. General Burgoyne, 
dining w^ith general Gates, immediately after the convention of 
Saratoga, and hearing general Schuyler named among the officers 
presented to him, thought it necessary to apologize for the des- 
truction of his elegant mansion a few days before, by his orders. 
'Make no excuses, general,' was the reply; 'I feel myself more 
than compensated by the pleasure of meeting you at this table.' " — 
Garden''s Anecdotes. 

The court of inquiry instituted on the conduct of generals Schuy- 
ler and St. Clair, resulted with the highest honor to them. 

General Schuyler, though not invested with any distinct com- 
mand, continued to render important services in the military trans- 
actions of New- York, until the close of the w^ar. 



176 CHARLES LEE. 

He was a member of the old congress ; and represented the state 
of New-York, in the Senate of the United States, when the pre- 
sent government commenced its operations. In 1797, he was 
again appointed a senator. He died at Albany, November 18th, 
1804, in the seventy-third year of his age. 



CHARLES LEE, 
Major-General in the American Army. 

General Lee was an original genius, possessing the most bril- 
liant talents, great military prowess, and extensive intelligence and 
knowledge of the world. He was born in Wales, his family spring- 
ing from the same parent stock with the earl of Leicester. 

He may be properly called a child of Mars, for he was an officer 
when but eleven years old. His favorite study was the science 
of war, and his warmest wish was to become distinguished in it; 
but though possessed of a military spirit, he was ardent in the pur- 
suit of general knowledge. He acquired a competent skill in 
Greek and Latin, while his fondness for travelling made him ac- 
quainted with the Italian, Spanish, German, and French languages. 

In 1756, he came to America, captain of a company of grena- 
diers, and was present at the defeat of general Abercrombie at 
Ticonderoga, where he received a severe wound. In 1762, he 
bore a colonel's commission, and served under Burgoyne in Portu- 
gal, where he greatly distinguished himself, and received the strong- 
est recommendations for his gallantry; but his early attachment 
to the American colonies, evinced in his writings against the op- 
pressive acts of parliament, lost him the favor of the ministry. 
Despairing of promotion, and despising a life of inactivity, he left 
his native soil, and entered into the service of his Polish majesty, 
as one of his aids, with the rank of major-general. 

His rambling disposition led him to travel all over Europe, dur- 
ing the years 1771, 1772, and part of 1773, and his warmth of 
temper drew him into several rencounters, among which was an 
affair of honor with an officer in Italy. The contest was begun 
with swords, when the general lost two of his fingers. Recourse 
was then had to pistols. His adversary was slain, and he was 
obliged to flee from the country, in order that he might avoid the 



CHARLES LEE. 177 

unpleasant consequences which might result from this unhappy 
circumstance. 

General Lee appeared to be influenced by an innate principle 
of republicanism; an attachment to these principles was implanted 
in the constitution of his mind, and he espoused the cause of 
x\merica as a champion of her emancipation from oppression. 

Glowing with these sentiments, he embarked for this countrv, 
and arrived at New- York on the 10th of November, 1773. On his 
arrival he became daily more enthusiastic in the cause of liberty, 
and travelled rapidly through the colonies, animating, both by con- 
versation and his eloquent pen, to a determined and persevering 
resistance to British tyranny. 

His enthusiasm in favor of the rights of the colonies was such, 
that, after the battle of Lexington, he accepted a major-general's 
commission in the American army ; though his ambition had pointed 
out to him the post of commander-in-chief as the object of his 
wishes. Previous to this, however, he resigned his commission in 
the British service, and relinquished his half-pay. This he did 
in a letter to the British secretary at war, in which he expressed 
his disapprobation of the oppressive measures of parliament, de- 
claring them to be absolutely subversive of the rights and liberties 
of every individual subject, so destructive to the whole empire at 
large, and ultimately so ruinous to his majesty's own person, dig- 
nity, and family, that he thought himself obliged in conscience, as 
a citizen. Englishman, and soldier of a free state, to exert his ut- 
most to defeat them. 

Immediately upon receiving his appointment, he accompanied 
general Washington to the camp at Cambridge, where he arrived 
July 2d, 1775, and was received with every mark of respect. 

As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge that the British gen- 
eral, Clinton, had left Boston, general Lee was ordered to set for- 
ward, to observe his manoeuvres, and prepare to meet him in any 
part of the continent he might visit. No man was better qualified, 
at this early stage of the war, to penetrate the designs of the 
enemy than Lee. Nursed in the camp, and well versed in Euro- 
pean tactics, the soldiers believed him, of all other officers, the 
best able to face in the field an experienced British veteran, and 
lead them on to victory. 
16*. 



178 CHARLES LEE. 

New-York was supposed to be the object of the enemy, and 
hither he hastened with all possible expedition. Immediately on 
his arrival, Lee took the most active and prompt measures to put 
it in a state of defence. He disarmed all suspected persons within 
the reach of his command, and proceeded with such rigor against 
the tories, as to give alarm at his assumption of military powers. 
From the tories he exacted a strong oath, and his bold measures 
carried terror wherever he appeared. 

Not long after, he was appointed to the command of the south- 
ern department, and in his travels through the country, he re- 
ceived every testimony of high respect from the people. Gener- 
al Sir Henry Clinton, and Sir Peter Parker, with a powerful fleet 
and army, attempted the reduction of Charleston while he was in 
command. The fleet anchored within half musket shot of the fort 
on Sulhvan's island, where colonel Moultrie, one of the bravest 
and most intrepid of men, commanded. A tremendous engage- 
ment ensued on the 28th of June, 1776, which lasted twelve hours 
without intermission. The whole British force was completely 
repulsed, after suffering an irreparable loss. 

"General Lee and colonel Moultrie received the thanks of con- 
gress for their signal bravery and gallantry. 

"Our hero had now reached the pinnacle of his military glory ; 
the eclat of his name alone appeared to enchant and animate the 
most desponding heart. But here we pause to contemplate the 
humiliating reverse of human events. He returned to the main 
army in October; and in marching at the head of a large detach- 
ment through the Jerseys, having, from a desire of retaining a 
separate command delayed his march several days in disobedience 
of express orders from the commander-in-chief, he was guilty of 
most culpable negligence in regard to his personal security. He 
took up his quarters two or three miles from the main body, and 
lay for the night, December 13th, 1776, in a careless, exposed 
situation. Information of this being communicated to colonel Har- 
court, who commanded the British light-horse, he proceeded im- 
mediately to the house, fired into it, and obliged the general to 
surrender himself a prisoner. They mounted him on a horse in 
haste, without his cloak or hat, and conveyed him in triumph to 
New- York." — Thacher's 3Iilitary Journal. 



CHARLES lEE. 179 

Lee was treated, while a prisoner, with great severity by the 
enemy, who affected to consider him as a state prisoner and de- 
serted from the service of his Britannic majesty, and denied the 
privileges of an American officer. General Washington prompt- 
ly retaliated the treatment received by Lee upon the Britisli offi- 
cers in his possession. This state of things existed until the cap- 
ture of Burgoyne, when a complete change of treiatment was ob- 
served towards Lee; and he was shortly afterward exchanged. 

The first military act of General Lee, after his exchange, closed 
his career in the American army. Previous to the battle of Mon- 
mouth, his character in general was respectable. From the begin- 
ning of the contest, his unremitted zeal in the cause of America 
e.xcited and directed the military spirit of the whole continent,- 
and his conversation inculcated the principles of liberty among 
all ranks of the people. His important services excited the warm 
gratitude of many of the friends of America. Hence it is said 
that a strong party was formed in Congress, and by some discon- 
tented officers in the army, to raise Lee to the first command : and 
it has been suggested by many, that general Lee's conduct at the 
battle of Monmouth was intended to effect this plan : for could the 
odium of the defeat have been at this time thrown on general 
Washington, there is great reason to suppose that he would have 
been deprived of his command. 

It is now to be seen how general Lee terminated his military 
career. In the battle of Monmouth, on the 28th of June, 1778, 
he commanded the van of the American troops, with orders from 
the commander-in-chief, to attack the retreating enemy. Instead 
of obeying this order, he conducted in an unworthy manner, and 
greatly disconcerted the arrangements of the day. Washington, 
advancing to the field of battle, met him in his disorderly retreat, 
and accosted him with strong expressions of disapprobation. Lee, 
incapable of brooking even an implied indignity, and unable to 
restrain the warmth of his resentment, used improper language in 
return, and some irritation was excited on both sides. The fol- 
lowing letters immediately after passed between Lee and the com- 
mander-in-chief: 

Camp, English town, 1st July, 1778. 
Sir — From the knowledge that I have of your excellency's 



180 CHARLES LEB, 

character, I must conclude that nothing but misinformation of some 
very stupid, or misrepresentation of some very wicked person^ 
could have occasioned your making use of such very singular ex- 
pressions as you did, on my coming up to the ground where you 
had taken post: they implied that I was guilty either of disobedi- 
ence of orders, want of conduct, or want of courage. Your ex- 
cellency will, therefore, infinitely oblige me by letting me know- 
on which of these three articles you ground your charge, that 1 
may prepare for my justification; which I have the happiness to 
be confident I can do to the army, to the congress, to America, 
and to the world in general. Your excellency must give me leave 
to observe, that neither yourself, nor those about your person, 
could, from your situation, be in the least judges of the merits or 
demerits of our manoeuvres; and, to speak with a becoming pride. 
1 can assert that to these manoeuvres the success of the day was 
entirely owing. I can boldly say, that had we remained on the 
first ground — or had we advanced — or had the retreat been con- 
ducted in a manner different from what it was, this whole army, 
and the interests of America, would have risked being sacrificed . 
I ever had, and I hope ever shall have, the greatest respect and 
veneration for general Washington ; I think him endowed with ma- 
ny great and good qualities ; but in this instance I must pronounce, 
that he has been guilty of an act of cruel injustice towards a man 
who had certainly some pretensions to the regard of every ser- 
vant of his country ; and I think, sir, I have a right to demand 
some reparation for the injury committed; and unless I can obtain 
it, I must, injustice to myself, when the campaign is closed, which 
I believe will close the war, retire from a service, at the head of 
which is placed a man capable of ofFei'ing such injuries; — but at 
the same time, injustice to you, I must repeat that I, from my soul, 
believe that it was not a motion of your own breast, but instigated 
by some of those dirty earwigs, who will forever insinuate them- 
selves near persons in high office; fori am really assured that, 
when general Washington acts from himself, no man in his army 
will have reason to complain of injustice and indecorum. 
I am, sir, and hope ever shall have reason to continue, 

Yours, &c. CHARLES LEE. 

His Excellency General Washington. 



CHARLES LEE. 181 

Head-quarters, English town, SOth June, 1778. 

Sir — I received your letter, dated through mistake the 1st of 
July, expressed, as I conceive, in terms highly improper. I am 
not conscious of having made use of any singular expressions at 
the time of my meeting you, as you intimate. What I recollect 
to have said, was dictated by duty and warranted by the occasion. 
As soon as circumstances will admit, you shall have an opportu- 
nity, either of justifying yourself to the army, to congress, to A- 
merica, and to the world in general, or of convincing them that 
you are guilty of a breach of orders, and of misbehavior before 
the enemy on the 28th instant, in not attacking them as you had 
been directed, and in making an unnecessary, disorderly and 
shameful retreat. 

I am, sir, your most obedient servant, 

G. WASHINGTON. 

A court-martial, of which lord Stirling was president, was or- 
dered for his trial, and after a masterly defence by general Lee, 
found him guilty of all the charges, and sentenced him to be sus- 
pended from any command in the army for the term of twelve 
months. This sentence was shortly afterward confirmed by con- 
gress. 

When promulgated, it was like a mortal wound to the lofty, as- 
piring spirit of general Lee ; pointing to his dog, he exclaimed — 
•"Oh that I was that animal, that I might not call man my brother.*" 
lie became outrageous, and from that moment he was more open 
and virulent in his attack on the character of the commander-in- 
chief, and did not cease in his unwearied endeavors, both in his 
conversation and writings, to lessen his reputation in the estima- 
tion of the army and the public. He was an active abettor of 
general Conway in his calumny and abuse of general Washing- 
ton, and they were believed to be in concert in their vile attempt 
to supersede his excellency in the supreme command. With the 
hope of effecting his nefarious purpose, he published a pamphlet 
replete with scurrilous imputations unfavorable to the military tal- 
ents of the commander-in-chief; but this, with his other malignant 
allegations, was consigned to contempt. 

At length colonel Laurens, one of general Washington's aids, 
unable longer to suffer this gross abuse of his illustrious friend. 



182 CHARLES LEE. 

demanded of Lee that satisfaction which custom has sanctioned 
as honorable. A rencounter accordingly ensued, and Lee re- 
ceived a wound in his side. 

Lee now finding himself abandoned by his friends, degraded in 
the eye of the public, and despised by the wise and virtuous, re- 
tired to his sequestered plantation in Virginia. In this spot, seclu- 
ded from all society, he lived in a sort of hovel, without glass 
windows or plastering, or even a decent article of house furniture; 
here he amused himself with his books and dogs. On January 
lOth, 1780, congress resolved that major-general Lee be informed 
they have no further occasion for his services in the army of the 
United States. In the autumn of 1782, wearied with his forlorn 
situation and broken spirit, he resorted to Philadelphia, and took 
lodgings in an ordinary tavern. He was soon seized with a dis- 
ease of the lungs, and after a few day's confinement, he termina- 
ted his mortal course, a martyr to chagrin and disappointment, 
October 2d, 1782. The last words which he was heard to utter 
were, "stand by me, my brave grenadiers." 

General Lee was rather above the middle size, "plain in his 
person even to ugliness, and careless in his manners even to a de- 
gree of rudeness : his nose was so remarkably aquiline, that it 
appeared as a real deformity. His voice was rough, his garb or- 
dinary, his deportment niorose. He was ambitious of fame, with- 
out the dignity to support it. In private life he sunk into the vul- 
garity of the clown." His remarkable partiality for dogs was 
such, that a number of these animals constantly followed in his 
train, and the ladies complained that he allowed his caivine ad- 
herents to follow him in the parlor, and not unfrequently a favor- 
ite one might be seen on a chair next his elbow at table. 

In the year 1776, when our army lay at White Plains, Lee re- 
sided near the road which general Washington frequently passed ; 
and he one day with his aids called and took dinner. After they 
had departed, Lee said to his aids, "You must look me out other 
quarters, or I shall have Washington and his puppies calling till 
they eat me up." The next day he ordered his servant to write 
on the door, "No victuals cooked here to-day." The company, 
seeing the hint on the door, passed, with a smile at the oddity of 
the man. "The character of this person," says Thacher, "is 



CHARLES LEE. 1 83 

full of absurdities, and qualities of a most extraordinary nature." 
While in Philadelphia, shortly before his death, the following 
ludicrous circumstance took place, which created no small diver- 
sion : — The late Judge Brackenridge, whose poignancy of satire 
and eccentricity of character were nearly a match for those of the 
general, had dipped his pen in some gall, which greatly irritated 
Lee's feelings, insomuch that he challenged him to single combat, 
which Brackenridge declined in a very eccentric reply. Lee 
having furnished himself with a horsewhip, determined to chastise 
him ignominiously on the very first opportunity. Observing 
Brackenridge going down Market street a few days after, he gave 
him chase, and Brackenridge took refuge in a public house, and 
barricaded the door of the room he entered. A number of per- 
sons collected to see the result. Lee damned him, and invited 
him to come out and fight him like a man. Brackenridge replied 
that 'he did not*like to be shot at, and made some quaint observa- 
tions, which only increased Lee's irritation, and the mirth of the 
spectators. Lee, with the most bitter imprecation, ordered him to 
come out, when he said he would horsewhip him. Brackenridge 
replied, that he had no occasion for a discipline of that kind. The 
amusing scene lasted some time, until at length Lee, finding that 
he could accomplish no other object than calling forth Bracken- 
ridge's wit for the amusement of the by-standers, retired. 

General Lee was master of a most genteel address; but was 
rude in his manners, and excessively negligent in his appearance 
and behaviour. liis appetite was so w himsical, that he was every 
where a most troublesome guest. Two or three dogs usually fol- 
lowed him wherever he went. As an officer, he was brave and 
able, and did much towards disciplining the American army. — 
With vigorous powers of mind, and a brilliant fancy, he was a 
correct and elegant classical scholar; and he both wrote and spoke 
his native language with propriety, force, and beauty. His tem- 
per was severe : the history of his life is little else than the history 
of disputes, quarrels, and duels, in every part of the world. He was 
vindictive, avaricious, immoral, impious, and profane. His princi- 
ples, as would be expected from his character, were most aban- 
doned, and he ridiculed every tenet of religion. Two virtues he 
possessed in an eminent degree — sincerity and veracity. It was 



184 WILLIAM MOULTRIE, 

notorious that general Lee was a man of unbounded personal am- 
bition ; and conscious of his European education, and pre-eminent 
military talents and prowess, he affected a superiority over general 
Washington, and constantly aimed at the supreme command, little 
scrupulous as to the means employed to accomplish his own ad- 
vancement. 

The following is an extract from general Lee's will : "I desire 
most earnestly, that I may not be buried in any church or church- 
yard, or within a mile of any presbyterian or anabaptist meeting- 
house ; for since I have resided in this country, I have kept so 
much bad company while living, that I do not choose to continue 
it while dead." 



WILLUM MOULTRIE, 
Major-General in the American Army. 
This gentleman was a citizen of South Carolina, and was a 
soldier from an early period of his life. At the commencement 
of the revolution, he was among the foremost to assert the liberties 
of his country, and braved every danger to redress her wrongs. — 
The scene of his brilliant operations was in South Carolina, and 
his gallant defence of Sullivan's island crowned him with immor- 
tality. 

•'General Lee styled the post at Sullivan's island a slaughter- 
pen, denounced its defence, and pronouncing disgrace on the 
measure, should it be persisted in, earnestly requested the presi- 
dent to order it to be evacuated. Happily for the nation, its des- 
tinies were at that period guided by that inflexible patriot, John 
Rutledge, who, confidently relying on Moultrie and his intrepid 
band, heroically replied to Lee, 'that while a soldier remained 
alive to defend it, he would never give his sanction to such an 
order.' The result proved the accuracy of his judgment. The 
following laconic note was, at the same time, forwarded to colonel 
Moultrie: 'General Lee wishes you to evacuate the fort. You will 
not without an order from me. I will sooner cut off my hand than 
write one.' — Garden's Anecdotes. 

"The defence of the pass at Sullivan's island may be compared 
with many of the splendid achievements which Grecian eloquence 
has rendered illustrious. Impressed witli prejudices as strong as 



VVIIXIAM MOULTRIE. 185 

Xerxes ever cherished against Greece, the commanders of the 
British forces approached our coast, not to conciliate, but to subdue. 
Exulting in the supposed superiority of their discipline and valor, 
they spoke in the language of authority, and would listen to no 
terms short of unconditional submission. 

"On the other hand, the gallant Moultrie, commanding a corps 
formidable only by their boldness and resolution, impatiently 
awaited their approach. He was not insensible of the insufficien- 
cy of a work hastily constructed, and in every part incomplete ; 
but considering himself pledged to give a proof to the enemy of 
American valor, he scorned the disgrace of relinquishing the fort 
he had sworn to defend, and notwithstanding the advice of the 
veteran Lee, heroically prepared for action. 

"Immediately on the approach of the British fleet to the coast, 
with the evident intention of attacking Charleston, a fort had been 
constructed on the west end of Sullivan's island, mounting thirty- 
two guns, 32's and IS's. Into this fort, Moultrie and his gallant 
hand threw themselves. 

"Two fifty gun ships of the enemy, four frigates, several sloops 
of war and bomb vessels, were brought to the attack, which was 
commenced about eleven o'clock, from one of the bomb vessels. 
This was soon followed by the guns of all the ships. Four of the 
vessels dropped anchor within a short distance of the fort, and 
opened their several broadsides. Three others were ordered to 
take their stations between the end of the island and the city, 
intending thereby to enfilade the works, as well as to cut off the 
f^ommunication with the continent. But in attempting to execute 
this order, they became entangled with each other on the shoals, 
and one of the frigates, the Acteon, stuck fast. 

"The roar of artillery upon this little fort was incessant, and 
enough to appal even those who had been accustomed all their 
lives to the dreadful work of cannonade. But Moultrie, with his 
brav.e Carolinians, seemed to regard it only as a symphony of the 
grand march of independence. They returned the fire with an 
aim as true and deliberate as though each British ship had been • 
placed as a target for prize shooting, and continued it for several 
hours, until their ammunition was expended. The cessation which 
this necessarily occasioned, produced a momentary joy in the as- 
17 



186 WILLIAM MOULTRIE. 

sailants, who, in imagination, already grasped the victory which 
had been so hotly disputed — but the renewal of the blaze from the 
batteries soon convinced them that the struggle was not yet ended. 
Another gleam of hope brightened upon the British seamen, when, 
after a dreadful volley, the fag of Moultrie was no longer seen 
to wave defiance. They looked eagerly and anxiously towards 
the spot where Clinton, Cornwallis, and Vaughan, had landed with 
the troops, expecting every moment to see them mount the para- 
pets in trumph ; but no British troops appeared ; and a few moments 
afterwards, the striped flag of the colonies once more proudly un- 
folded to the breeze — the staff had been carried away by a shot, 
and the flag had fallen on the outside of the works; a brave ser- 
geant of the Carolina troops, by the name of Jasper, jumped 
<>ver the wall, seized the flag, and fastened it to a sponge-staff, 
imounted the merlon, amidst the thunder of the enemy's guns, and 
fix^d it in a conspicuous place. 

"The ships of the enemy kept up their fire with unsubdued 
courage until half-past nine o'clock, when the darkness of the 
'cight put a stop to the carnage on both sides ; and the ships with 
the exception of the Actcon, soon after slipped their cables, and 
xiropped down about two miles from the scene of action. The ter- 
rible slaughter on board the ships bore melancholy testimony to 
the bravery of the British seamen. At one time captain Morris, 
■of the Bristol, was almost the only man left upon the quarter- 
deck. He had received several wounds, but gallantly refused to 
-cjuit the deck, until no longer able to stand, or give an order. This 
'Ship had one hundred and eleven killed and wounded. The Ex- 
^peviment lost ninety-nine killed and wounded, and among the lat- 
ter her commander, captain Scott. The Acteon had a lieutenant 
■killed and six wounded, and the Solchay eight wounded. The 
whole killed and wounded two hundred and twenty-five. Sir Pe- 
ter Parker, and lord WUiam Campbell, who served as a volunteer, 
•were both wounded. The Americans lost only ten killed, and 
twenty -two wounded. 

"It is impossible to give too much praise to colonel Moultrie and 
his brave Carolinians, who for more ihaxi ten hours sustained the 
■continued fire of upwards of one handred guns and bombs; from 
■which, in the course of that time were thrown more th9.n ten thou- 



WILLIAM MOULTRIE. 187 

sand shot and shells, seven thousand of which were picked up on 
the next day. 

"On the next day, a few shot were fired from the garrison at the 
Acteon, which remained aground^ and the crew returned them; 
but finding it impossible to get her off", they soon set fire to, and 
abandoned her, leaving the colors flying, the guns loaded, and all 
theirammunition and stores. In this perilous situation she was 
boarded by a small party of Americans, who fired three of the guns 
at their late owners, while the flames were bursting ai'ound them, 
filled their boats with the stores, secured the flag, and had just 
time to save themselves, when she was blown into the air. 

"The fort which had been so gallantly defended by Moultrie, 
afterward received his name." — Allen's American Revolution, 

"In 1779, he gained a victory over the British, in the battle near 
Beaufort. In 1780, he was second in command in Charleston, 
during the siege. After the city surrendered, he was sent to Phil- 
adelphia. In 1782, he returned, and was repeatedly chosen gov- 
ernor of the state of South Carolina . 

"Notwithstanding his labors, his victories, and public services, 
however zealous, however glorious, however serviceable, the enemy 
had the audacity to make choice of him as a fit object to be gained 
over to them by bribery. His talents, his experience, and enter- 
prise, would be an invaluable acquisition to the enemy, if it could 
be employed on the continent; and if it could not be so employed, 
then the depriving of the Americans of him would be of impor- 
tance nearly as great ; it was, in the eyes of a selfish, greedy 
enemy, highly probable that a man who had suflfered so much in 
his private property would listen to a proposal which would enable 
him to go to Jamaica as colonel of a British regiment, the com- 
mander of which, lord Charles Montague, politely offered, as a 
proof of his sincerity, to quit the command, and serve under him. 
^No,' replied the indignant Moultrie, 'not the fee simple of that 
valuable island of Jamaica should induce me to part with my in- 
tegrity.'' 

"This incorruptible patriot died at Charleston, September 27, 
1805, in the seventy -sixth year of his age." — Amer. Biography. 



188 THOMAS MIFFLIN. 

THOMAS MIFFLIN, 

Major-General in the American Army. 
"Thomas Mifflin, a major-general in the American army dur- 
ing the revolutionary war, and governor of Pennsylvania, was 
born in the year 1744, of parents who were quakers. His educa- 
tion was intrusted to the care of the Rev. Dr. Smith, with whom 
he was connected in habits of cordial intimacy and friendship for 
more than forty years. Active and zealous, he engaged early in 
opposition to the measures of the British parliament. He was a 
member of the first congress, in 1774. He took arms and was 
among the first officers commissioned on the organization of the 
continental army, being appointed quarter-master-general, in Au- 
gust 1775. For this offence he was read out of the society of 
quakers. In 1777, he was very useful in animating the militia, 
and enkindling the spirit which seemed to have been damped. — 
His sanguine disposition, and his activity, rendered him insensi- 
ble to the value of that coolness and caution which were essential to 
the preservation of such an army as was then under the command 
of general Washington. In 1787, he was a member of the con- 
vention which framed the constitution of the United States, and 
his name is affixed to that instrument. In October, 1788, he suc- 
ceeded Franklin as president of the supreme executive council of 
Pennsylvania, in which station he continued till October, 1790. 
In September, a constitution for this state was formed by a con- 
vention, in which he presided, and he was chosen the first gov- 
ernor. In 1794, during the insurrection in Pennsylvania, he em- 
ployed to the advantage of his country, the extraordinary powers 
of elocution with which he was endowed. The imperfection of 
the militia laws was compensated by his eloquence. He made a 
circuit through the lower counties, and at different places, publicly 
addressed the militia on the crisis in the affairs of their country, 
and through his animating exhortations the slate furnished the 
quota required. He was succeeded in the office of governor by 
Mr. M'Kean, at the close of the year 1799, and he died at Lan- 
caster, January 20, 1800, in the fifty-seventh year of his age. He 
was an active and zealous patriot, who had devoted much of his 
life to the public service." — American Biographical Dictionary. 



JOHN S0LLIVAN. 189 

JOHN SULLIVAN, 

Major-General in the American Army. 

General Sullivan was a native of New-Hampshire, where 
he resided before the revolution, and attained to a high degree of 
eminence in the profession of the law. He was a member of the 
first congress, 1774 ; but on the commencement of hostilities, pre- 
ferring a military commission, he relinquished the fairest pros- 
pects of fortune and fame, and appeared among the most ardent 
patriots and intrepid warriors. 

"In 1775, he was appointed a brigadier-general, and immedi- 
ately joined the army at Cambridge, and soon after obtained the 
command on Winter Hill. The next year he was ordered to Can- 
ada, and, on the death of general Thomas, the command of the 
army devolved on him.. The situation of our army in that quarter 
was inexpressibly distressing ; destitute of clothing, dispirited by 
defeat and constant fatigue, and a large proportion of the troops sick 
with the small pox. By his great exertions and judicious manage- 
ment, he meliorated the condition of the army, and obtained gen- 
eral applause. On his retiring from that command, July 12th, 
1776, the field officers thus addressed him ; 'It is to you, sir, the 
public are indebted for the preservation of their property in Cana- 
da. It is to you we owe our safety thus far. Your humanity will 
call forth the silent tear and the grateful ejaculation of the sick. 
Your universal impartiality will force the applause of the wearied 
soldier.' 

"In August, 1776, he was promoted to the rank of major-general, 
and soon after was, with major-general lord Stirling, captured by 
the British in the battle of Long-Island. General Sullivan being 
paroled, was sent by general Howe with a message to congress, 
after which he returned to New-York. In September, he was ex- 
changed for major-general Prescott. We next find him in com- 
mand of the right division of our troops, in the famous battle at 
Trenton, and he acquitted himself honorably on that ever memor- 
able day. 

"In August, 1777, without the authority of congress, or the com- 
mander-in-chief, he planned and executed an expedition against 
the enemy on Staten-Island. Though the enterprise was conduct- 
ed with prudence and success, in part, it was said by some to have 
17* 



190 JOHN SULLIVAN. 

been less brilliant than might have been expected under his favor- 
able circumstances ; and as that act was deemed a bold assumption 
of responsibility, and reports to his prejudice being in circulation, 
a court of inquiry w^as ordered to investigate his conduct. The 
result was an honorable acquittal ; and congress resolved, that the 
result, so honorable to general Sullivan, is highly pleasing to 
congress, and that the opinion of the court be published, in justi- 
fication of that injured officer. 

"In the battles of Brandy wine and Germantown, in the autumn 
of 1777, general Sullivan commanded a division, and in the latter 
conflict his two aids were killed, and his own conduct was so con- 
spicuously brave, that general Washington, in his letter to congress, 
concludes with encomiums on the gallantry of general Sullivan, 

and the whole right wing of the army, \yho acted immediately 
under the eye of his excellency. 

"In August, 1777, general Sullivan was sole commander of the 
expedition to the island of Newport, in co-operation with the French 
fleet under the count D'Estaing. The marquis de la Fayette and 
general Greene volunteered their services on the occasion. The 
object of the expedition was defeated, in consequence of the 
French fleet being driven off by a violent storm. By this unfor- 
tunate event, the enemy were encouraged to engage our army in 
battle, in which they suffered a repulse, and general Sullivan fi- 
nally effected a safe retreat to the main. This retreat so ably exe- 
cuted, without confusion or the loss of baggage or stores, increased 

the military reputation of general Sullivan, and redounds to his 
honor as a skilful commander." 

About this time the following event took place, which is highly 
characteristic of the bravery and darini> of the American troops. 
When the combined forces of France and America were contem- 
plating an attack on Newport, R. I. general Sullivan arranged his 
army to march against the British forces. He disposed his troops 
into three divisions; the first division were ordered to take the 
west road, the second to take the east road, and the third to march 
in the centre. The advanced guard having arrived within 
three hundred yards of the British fort, commenced throwing up 
entrenchments. The British then fired a few scattering shots 
which passed over the lieads of the Americans without doing any 
injury. The American guard v/ere placed about thirty rods in 



JOHN SULLIVAN. 191 

advance of the army, and within speaking distance of the guards 
of the British. And in full view were six hundred horses feed- 
ing, which belonged to the British army, which excited the enter- 
prise of a young man by the name of Mason, about twenty A^ears 
old. This young man, in open day, and in the presence of both 
armies, conceived the bold design of bringingoffoneof these hor- 
ses as a prize. In a low piece of ground between both sentinels, 
were a hw scattering alders, by means of which he contrived to 
pass both lines undiscovered, and made direct for the pasture 
where the horses, with their saddles on, were feeding, and the 
bridles slipped about their necks. Among these he selected the 
best horse he could find, which he mounted, and after leaping two 
or three fences, entered the road leading to the American army. 
As he approached the British guards, he put spurs to his horse, 
and passed them before they had time to recover from surprise; 
when he received the fire of both sentinels at the same time. — 
But our hero had the good fortune to escape unhurt, and arrived 
safe in the American camp with his noble prize: when he halted, 
and in a dignified manner drew from his holsters both pistols, ex- 
tended his arms and discharged them in triumph. 

But the alarm given by the sentinels, called out both armies, 
and the panic extended even to the British fleet in the harbor. — 
Alarm guns were fired for many miles up and down the coast and 
the whole country was filled with the utmost consternation. The 
British army paraded in front of the fort, expecting an immediate 
attack. The troopers inrunediately sprung to their horses, when 
lo! one poor red coat was seen wandering alone destitute of a 
horse. The cause of alarm was soon discovered, and both armies 
retired. Our hero, after exhibiting his horse in proud triumph, 
for about two hours, sold him to one of the officers for five hundred 
dollars ; a reward worthy of one of the most bold, daring and suc- 
cessful enterprises of which history can boast. 

"The bloody tragedy acted at Wyoming, in 1778, had deter- 
mined the commander-in-chief, in 1779, to employ a large detach- 
ment from the continental army to penetrate into the heart of the 
Indian country, to chastise the hostile tribes and their white asso- 
ciates and adherents, for their cruel aggressions on the defence- 
less inhabitants. The command of this expedition was committed 



192 JOHN SULLIVAN. 

to major-general Sullivan, with express orders to destroy their set- 
tlements, to ruin their crops, and make such thorough devastations 
as to render the country entirely uninhabitable for the present, 
and thus to compel the savages to remove to a greater distance 
from our frontiers. 

"General Sullivan had under his command several brigadiers, 
and a well chosen army, to which were attached a number of 
friendly Indian warriors. With this force he penetrated about 
ninety miles, through a horrid swampy wilderness, and barren 
mountainous deserts, to Wyoming, on the Susquehannah river, 
thence by water to Tioga, and possessed himself of numerous 
towns and villages of the savages. 

"During this hazardous expedition general Sullivan and his ar- 
my encountered the most complicated obstacles, requiring the 
greatest fortitude and perseverance to surmount. He explored 
an extensive tract of country, and strictly executed the severe 
but necessary orders he had received. A considerable number 
of Indians were slain, some were captured, their habitations were 
burnt, and their plantations of corn and vegetables laid waste in 
the most effectual manner. "Eighteen villages, a number of de- 
tached buildings, one hundred and sixty thousand bushels of corn, 
and those fruits and vegetables which conduce to the comfort and 
subsistence of man, were utterly destroyed. Five weeks were 
unremittingly employed in this work of devastation." 

"On his return from the expedition, he and his army received 
the approbation of congress. It is remarked on this expedition, 
by the translator of M. Chastelleaux's travels, an Englishman, 
then resident in the United States, that the instructions given by 
general Sullivan to his officers, the order of march he prescribed 
to his troops, and the discipline he had the ability to maintain, 
would have done honor to the most experienced ancient or modern 
generals. 

"At the close of the campaign, in 1779, general Sullivan, in 
consequence of impaired health, resigned his commission in the 
army. Congress, in accepting his resignation, passed a resolve, 
thanking him for his past services. His military talents and bold 
spirit of enterprise were universally acknowledged. He was 
fond of display, and his personal appearance and dignified deport- 



BEN/AMIN LINCOLN. 193 

ment commanded respect. After his resignation, he resumed his 
professional pursuits at the bar, and was much distinguished as a 
statesman, politician, and patriot. He acquired very considera- 
ble proficiency in general literature, and an extensive knowledge 
of men and the world. He received from Harvard University a 
degree of master of arts, and from the University of Dartmouth a 
deo-ree of doctor of laws. He was one of the convention who 
formed the state constitution for New-Hampshire, was chosen into 
the first council, and was afterward elected chief magistrate in 
that state, and held the office for three years. In September, 1789, 
he was appointed judge of the district court for the district of New- 
Hampshire, and continued in the office till his death, 1795." — 
Thacher's Military Journal. 



BENJAMIN LINCOLN, 
Major-Genkral in the American Arm\'. 
"General Lincoln desei'ves a high rank in the fraternity of 
American heroes. He was born in Hingham, Massachusetts, 
January 23d, O. S. 1733. His early education was not auspi- 
cious to his future eminence, and his vocation was that of a farmer, 
till he was more than forty years of age, though he was commis- 
sioned as a magistrate, and elected a representative in the state 
legislature. In the year 1775, he sustained the office of lieuten- 
ant-colonel of militia. In 1776, he was appointed by the council 
of Massachusetts a brigadier, and soon after a major-general, and 
he applied himself assiduously to training and preparing the mili- 
tia for actual service in the field, in which he displayed the mili- 
tary talent which he possessed. In October he marched with a 
body of militia, and joined the main army at New-York. The 
commander-in-chief, from a knowledge of liis character and merit, 
recommended him to congress as an excellent officer, and in Feb- 
ruary, 1777, he was by that honorable body created a major-gen- 
eral on the continental establishment. For several months he 
commanded a division, or detachments in the main army, under 
Washington, and was in situations which required the exercise 
of the utmost vigilance and caution, as well as firmness and cour- 
age. Having the command of about five hundred men in an ex- 
posed situation near Bound Brook, through the neglect of his pat- 



194 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 

roles, a large body of the enemy approached within two hundred 
yards of his quarters undiscovered; the general had scarcely time 
to mount and leave the house before it was surrounded. He led 
ofFhis troops, however, in the face of the enemy, and made good 
his retreat, though with the loss of about sixty men killed and 
wounded. One of his aids, with the general's baggage and pa- 
pers, fell into the hands of the enemy, as did also three small 
pieces of artillery. In July, 1777, general Washington selected 
him to join the northern army under the command of general 
Gates, to oppose the advance of general Burgoyne. He took his 
station at Manchester, in Vermont, to receive and form the New- 
Enn-land militia as they arrived, and to order their march to the 
rear of the British army. He detached colonel Brown with five 
hundred men, on the 13th of September, to the landing at Lake 
George, where he succeeded in surprising the enemy, and took 
possession of two hundred batteaux, liberated one hundred Amer- 
ican prisoners, and captured two hundred and ninety -three of the 
enemy, with the loss of only three killed and five wounded. Thii< 
enterprise was of the highest importance, and contributed essenti- 
ally to the glorious event which followed. Having detached two 
other parties to the enemy's posts at Mount Independence and 
Skeensborough, general Lincoln united his remaining force with 
the army under general Gates, and was the second in command. 
During the sanguinary conflict on the 7th of October, general 
Lincoln commanded within our lines, and at one o'clock the next 
morning, he marched with his division to relieve the troops that 
had been engaged, and to occupy the battle ground, the enemy 
having retreated. While on this duty he had occasion to ride for- 
ward some distance, to reconnoitre, and to order some disposition 
of his own troops, when a party of the enemy made an unexpected 
movement, and he approached within musket shot before he was 
aware of his mistake. A whole volley of musketry was instant- 
ly discharged at him and his aids, and he received a wound by 
which the bones of his leg were badly fractured, and he was obli- 
ged to be carried off the field. The wound was a formidable one, 
and the loss of his limb was for some time apprehended. He was 
for several months confined at Albany, and it became necessary 
to remove a considerable portion of the main bone before he was 



BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 195 

conveyed to his house at Hingham, and under this painful surgi* 
cal operation, the writer of this, being present, witnessed in him 
a degree of firmness and patience not to be exceeded. "I have 
known hira," says colonel Rice, who was a member of his milita- 
ry family, "during the most painful operation by the surgeon, 
while bystanders were frequently obliged to leave the room, en- 
tertain us with some pleasant anecdote, or story, and draw forth 
a smile from his friends." His wound continued several years in 
an ulcerated state, and by the loss of the bone the limb was short- 
ened, which occasioned lameness during the remainder of his life. 
"General Lincoln certainly afforded very important assistance 
in the capture of Burgoyne, though it was his unfortunate lot, while 
in active duty, to be disabled before he could participate in the 
capitulation. Though his recovery was not complete, he repaired 
to head quarters in the following August, and was joyfully re- 
ceived by the commander-in-chief, who well knew how to appre- 
ciate his merit. It was from a developement of his estimable 
character as a man, and his talent as a military commander, that 
he was designated by congress for the arduous duties of the chief 
command in the southern department, under innumerable embar- 
rassments. On his arrival at Charleston, December 1778, he found 
that he had to form an army,' to provide supplies, and to arrange 
the various departments, that he might be able to cope with an 
enemy consisting of experienced officers and veteran troops. — 
This, it is obvious, required a man of superior powers, indefatiga- 
ble perseverance, and unconquerable energy. Had not these 
been his inherent qualities, Lincoln must have yielded to the for- 
midable obstacles which opposed his progress.- About the 28th 
of December, general Prevost arrived with a fleet, and about three 
thousand British troops, and took possession of Savannah, after 
routing a small party of Americans under general Robert Howe, 
General Lincoln immediately put his troops in motion, and took 
post on the eastern side of the river, about twenty miles from the 
city,- but he was not in force to commence offensive operations, 
till the last of February. In April, with the view of covering the 
upper part of Georgia, he marched to Augusta; after which Pre- 
vost, the British commander, crossed the river into Carolina, and 
marched for Charleston. General Lincoln, therefore, re-crossed 



196 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 

the Savannah and followed his route, and on his arrival near the 
city, the enemy had retired from it during the previous night. A 
detachment of the enemy, supposed to be about six hundred men, 
under lieutenant-colonel Maitland, being posted at Stone Ferry, 
where they had erected works for their defence, general Lincoln 
resolved to attack them, which he did on the 19th of June. The 
contest lasted one hour and twenty minutes, in which he lost one 
hundred and sixty men killed and wounded, and the enemy suf- 
fered about an equal loss. Their works were found to be much 
stronger than had been represented, and our artillery proving too 
light to annoy them, and the enemy receiving a reinforcement, 
our troops were obliged to retire. 

"The next event of importance which occurred with our gen- 
eral, was the bold assault on Savannah, in conjunction with the 
count D'Estaing. General Pre vest had again possessed himself 
of that city; and count D'Estaing arrived with his fleet and arma- j! 
ment in the beginning of September, 1779. Having landed nearly "' 
three thousand French troops, general Lincoln immediately united 
about one thousand men to his force. The prospect of success 
was highly flattering; but the enemy exerted all their efforts in 
.strengthening their lines, and after the count had summoned the 
garrison, and while Prevost was about to arrange articles of capi- 
tulation, he received a reinforcement. It was now resolved to 
attempt the place by a regular siege; but various causes occa- 
sioned a delay of several days ; and when it commenced, the can- 
nonade and bombardment failed of producing the desired effect, 
and the short time allowed the count on our coast, was quite in- 
sufficient for reducing the garrison by regular approaches. The 
two commanders concluded, therefore, to make an effort on the 
works by assault. On the 9th of October, in the morning, the 
troops were led on by D'Estaing and Lincoln united, while a co- 
lumn led by count Dillon missed their route in the darkness, and 
failed of the intended co-operation. Amidst a most appalling fire 
of the covered enemy, the allied troops forced the abattis, and 
planted two standards on the parapets : but being overpowered at 
the point of attack, they were compelled to retire — the French 
having seven hundred, the Americans two hundred and forty. 



BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 197 

killed and wounded. The count Pulaski, at the head of a body 
of our horse, was mortally wounded. 

"General Lincoln next repaired to Charleston, and endeavored 
to put that city in a posture of defence, urgently requesting of con- 
gress a reinforcement of regular troops, and additional supplies, 
which were but partially complied with. In February 1780, gen- 
eral Sir Henry Clinton arrived, and landed a formidable force in 
the vicinity, and on the 30th of March encamped in front of the 
American lines at Charleston. Considering the vast superiority 
of the enemy, both in sea and land forces, it might be questioned 
whether prudence or correct judgment would dictate an attempt to 
defend the city. It will not be supposed, however, that the deter- 
mination was formed without the most mature deliberation, and 
for reasons perfectly justifiable. It is well known that the general 
was in continual expecta*ron of an augmentation of strength by 
reinforcements. On the 10th of April, the enemy, having made 
some advances, summoned the garrison to an unconditional sur- 
render, which was promptly refused. A heavy and incessant 
cannonade was sustained on each side till the 11th of May, when 
the besiegers had completed their third parallel line, and having 
made a second demand of surrender, a capitulation was agreed on. 
It is to be lamented that, with all the judicious and vigorous efforts 
in his power, general Lincoln was requited only by the frowns of 
fortune ; whereas, had he been successful in his bold enterprise 
and views, he would have been crowned with unfading laurels. 
But, notwithstanding a series of disappointments and unforeseen 
occurrences, he was censured by no one, nor was his judgment or 
merit called in question. He retained his popularity and the con- 
fidence of the army, and was considered as a most zealous patriot, 
and the bravest of soldiers. 

"In the campaign of 1781, general Lincoln commanded a divi- 
sion under Washington, and at the siege of York-town he had his 
full share of the honor of that brilliant and auspicious event. — 
The articles of capitulation stipulated for the same honor in favor 
of the surrendering army, as had been granted to the garrison cf 
Charleston. General Lincoln was appointed to conduct them to 
the field where their arms were deposited, and received the custo- 
mary submission. In the general order of the commander-in- 
18 



198 BEXJAMIN LINX'OLN. 

chief the clay after the capitulation, general Lincoln was among 
the general officers whose services were particularly mentioned. 
In October, 1781, he was chosen by congress secretary of war, 
retaining his rank in the army. In this office he continued till 
October, 1783, when his proffered resignation was accepted by 
congress. 

"Having relinquished the duties and cares of a public employ- 
ment, he retired and devoted his attention to his farm j but in 1784 
he was chosen one of the commissioners and agents on the part 
of the state, to make and execute a treaty with the Penobscot Indi- 
ans. When in the year 1786-7, the authority of our state gov- 
ernment was in a manner prostrated, and the country alarmed by 
a most audacious spirit of insurrection, under the guidance of 
Shays and Day, general Lincoln was appointed by the governor 
and council to command a detachment of militia, consisting of four 
or five thousand men, to oppose their progress, and compel them to 
a submission to the laws. He marched from Boston on the 30th 
cf January, into the counties of Worcester, Hampshire, and Berk- 
shire, where the insurgents had erected their standard. They 
were embodied inconsiderable force, and manifested a determined 
resistance, and a slight skirmish ensued between them and a par- 
ty of militia under general Shephei'd. I>incoln, however, con- 
ducted with such address and energy, that the insurgents were 
routed from one town to another, till they were completely disper- 
sed in all directions ; and by his wise and prudent measures, the in- 
surrection was happily suppressed without bloodshed, excepting a 
few individuals who were slain under general Shepherd's com- 
mand. 

"He was a member of the convention for ratifying the federal 
•constitution, and in the summer of 1789 he received from president 
Washington the appointment of collector of the port of Boston, 
V, hich office he sustained till, being admonished by the increasing 
infirmities of age, he requested permission to resign. 

"Having, after his resignation of the office of collector, passed 
about two years in retirement and in tranquility of mind, but exr 
periencing the feebleness of age, he received a short attack of 
disease, by which his honorable life was terminated on the 9th of 
May, 1810, aged seventy-seven years. 



BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 199 

"The following tribute is on the records of the Society of Cin- 
cmnatti. 'At the annual meeting in July, 1810, major-general 
. John Brooks was chosen president of the society, to supply the 
place of our venerable and much lamented president, general Ben- 
jamin Lincoln, who had presided over the society from the organi- 
zation thereof in 1783, to the 9th of May, 1810, the day of his de- 
cease, with the entire approbation of every member, and the 
grateful tribute of his surviving comrades, for his happy guidance 
and afiectionate attentions during so long a period.' 

"While at Purysburg, on the Savannah river, a soldier, named 
Sickling, having been detected in frequent attempts to desert, was 
tried and sentenced to be hanged. The general ordered the exe- 
cution. The rope broke : a second was procured, which broke al- 
so. The case was reported to the general for directions. 'Let 
him run,' said the general, 'I thought he looked like a scape-gal- 
iows.' 

''Major Garden, in his anecdotes of the American revolution, 
relates this story, with some addition. It happened, that as Fickling 
was led to execution, the surgeon-general of the army passed ac- 
cidentally on his way to his quarter?, which were at some distance. 
When the second rope was procured, the adjutant of the regiment, 
a stout and heavy man, assayed by every means to break it, but 
without effect. Fickling was then haltered and again turned off, 
when, to the astonishment of the by-standers, the rope untwisted, 
and he fell a second time, uninjured, to the ground. A cry for 
mercy was now general throughout the ranks, which occasioned 
major Ladson, aid-de-camp to general Lincoln, to gallop to head- 
quarters, to make a representation of facts, which were no sooner 
stated, tlianan immediate pardon was granted, accompanied with 
an order that he should instantaneously be drummed, with every 
mark of infamy, out of camp, and threatened with instant death 
if he ever should be found attempting to approach it. In the in- 
terim, the surgeon-general had established himself at his quarters, 
' in a distant barn, little doubting but that the catastrophe was at an 
end, and Fickling quietly resting in his grave. Midnight was at 
hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when, hearing the 
approach of a footstep, he raised his eyes, and saw with astonish- 
ment the tignrc of the man who had, in his opinion, been executed, 



200 HUGH MERCER. 

slowly, and with haggard countenance approaching towards him. 
'How '.how is this?' exclaimed the doctor j 'whence come you? what 
do you want with me? were you not hanged this morning? 'Yes 
sir,' replied the resuscitated man, 'I am the wretch you saw going 
to the gallows, and who was hanged.' 'Keep your distance,' said 
the doctor, 'approach me not till you say why you come here.' — 
'Simply, sir,' said the supposed spectre, 'to solicit food. I am no 
ghost, doctor. The rope broke twice while the executioner was 
doing his office, and the general thought proper to pardon me.' — 
'If that be the case,' rejoined the doctor, 'eat and be welcome ; but 
I beg of you in future to have a little more consideration, and not 
intrude so unceremoniously into the apartment of one who had 
every right to suppose you an inhabitant of the tomb." — ThacJier'^s 
Military Journal. 



HUGH MERCER, 
M\jor-Generax in the American Arm v. 
General Hugh Mercer was a Scotchman by birth, but at an 
early age emigrated to Virginia, where he continued to reside, and 
become a practising physician. 

General Wilkinson relates the following interesting incidents 
in his life : 

"He served in the campaign of 1755, with general Braddock, 
and was wounded through the shoulder in the unfortunate action 
near Fort du Quesne: unable to retreat, he lay down under cover 
of a large fallen tree, and in pursuit, an Indian leaped upon the 
covert immediately over him, and after looking about a few seconds 
for the direction of the fugitives, he sprung oft' without obs erving 
the wounded man who lay at his feet. So soon as the Indians 
had killed the wounded, scalped the dead, rifled the baggage, and 
cleared the field, the unfortunate Mercer, finding himself exceed- 
ingly faint and thirsty, from loss of blood, crawled to an adjacent 
brook, and, after drinking plentifully, found himself so much re- 
freshed that he was able to walk, and commenced his return by 
the road the army had advanced ; but being without subsistence, and 
more than one hundred miles from any christian settlement, he ex- 
pected to die of famine, when he observed a rattlesnake on his 
path, which he killed and contrived to skin, and throwing it over 



HUGH MERCER. 201 

hi.- sound shoulder, he subsisted on it as the claims of nature ur- 
ged, until he reached Fort Cumberland, on the Potomac." 

General Mercer, at the commencement of the revolution, hear- 
tily engaged in the cause of American liberty. He was one of 
those gallant spirits who adhered to the American cause "in times 
that tried men's souls," and bravely supported the commander-in- 
chief in his disastrous retreatthrough the Jerseys. 

He was present at the battle of Princeton, where he greatly 
distinguished himself, and was mortally wounded. 

"On the night of the 1st of January, general Mercer, colonel 
C. Biddle, and doctor Cochran, spent the evening with general St, 
Clair. Fatigued with the duties of the day, I had laid down in 
the same apartment, and my attention was attracted by the turn of 
their conversation, on the recent promotion of captain William 
^V'ashing•ton, from a regiment of infantry to a majority of cavalry. 
General Mercer expressed his disapprobation of the measure ; at 
which the gentlemen appeared surprised, as it was the reward cf 
acknowledged gallantry, and Mercer, in explanation, observed, 
'We are not engaged in a war of ambition ; if it had been so, I 
should never have accepted a commission under a man who had 
not seen a day's service, (alluding to the great orator and distin- 
guished patriot, Patrick Henry;) we serve not for ourselves, but 
for our country, and every man should be content to fill the place 
in which he can be most useful. I know Washington to be a good 
captain of infantry, but I know not what sort of a major of horse 
he may make ; and I have seen good captains make indiflerent ma- 
jors; for my own part, my views in this contest are confined to'a 
single object, that is, the success of the cause, and God can wit- 
ness how cheerfully I would lay down my life to secure it.' 

"In general Mercer, we lost a chief who, for education, experi- 
ence, talents, disposition, integrity, and patriotism, was second to 
no man but the commander-in-chief, and Avas qualified to fill the 
highest trusts of the country. The manner in which he was 
wounded is an evidence of the excess to which the common sol- 
diery are liable in the heat of action, particularly when irritated 
by the loss of favorite officers. Being obstructed when advancing 
by a post and rail fence in front of the orchard, it may be pre- 
sumed the general dismounted voluntarily, for he was on foot when 
18* 



202 WILLIAM HEATH. 

the troops gave way; in exerting himself to rally them, he was 
thrown into the rear, and perceiving he could not escape, he tur- 
ned and surrendered, but was instantly knocked down, and bayo- 
netted thirteen times, when feigning to be dead, one of his mur- 
derers exclaimed 'Damn him, he is dead, let us leave him.' After 
the retreat of the enemy, he was conveyed to the house of Tho- 
mas Clark, to whom he gave this account, and languished until 
the 12th, when he expired." 



WILLIAM HEATH, 

Major-General in the American Army, ^ 

General William Heath descended from an ancient family, 
and was of the fifth generation of the family who have inherited 
the same real estate, taken up in a state of nature. He was born 
in the year 1737, in Roxbury, Massachusetts, and was from his 
youth a cultivator of the soil, of which profession he was passion- 
ately fond. 

From his childhood he was remarkably fond of military exer- 
cises, which passion grew up with him, and as he arrived at years 
of maturity, led him to procure, and attentively study, every mili- 
tary treatise in the English language, which he could procure. 

As the dispute between Great Britain and her American colonies 
assumed a serious aspect. Heath did not hesitate for a moment to 
declare his sentiments in favor of the rights and liberties of his 
fellow countrymen. So early as the year 1770, he commenced 
addresses to the public, under the signature of^AMilitari/ Coun- 
tryjjiar},'''' in which he urged the importance of military discipline, 
and skill in the use of arms, as the only means under heaven that 
could save the country; and he assiduously applied himself in or- 
ganizing and disciplining the companies of militia and minute men. 

Being ranked among the patriots, and advocates for liberty, he 
v/as commissioned, in 1775, by the provincial congress, as a briga- 
dier-general, and in 1770, he received a commission from con- 
gress, appointing him a major-general in the army of the United 
States. ' 

Though high in rank, and respectable as an officer of parade 
and discipline, we look in vain for laurels acquired in the field. 
Had it been his destiny however to encounter the perils of a con- 



WILLIAM HEATH. 203 

flict in the field of battle, no one can say how valorously he would 
have acted the hero. 

During the years 1777 and 1778, he was the commanding offi- 
cer of the eastern department, with his head-quarters at Boston. 
Here devolved upon him the arduous and difficult duties of super- 
intendent of the convention troops captured with Burgoyne at Sara- 
toga, and now quartered at Cambridge. The station required the 
exercise of uncommon firmness and decision of character. And 
had general Heath been destitute of these characteristics, he would 
have been subjected to the grossest impositioiis and indignities, 
from the haughtiness of the British generals, Burgoyne and Phil- 
lips, and the perverse temper of their soldiery. He who had vaunt- 
ingly declared in the British parliament, that "with five thousand 
men he would make elbow room from one end of the continent to the 
other," could ill support himself under the chagrin and mortifica- 
tion of a state of captivity. His lofty spirit frequently broke forth, 
but general Heath soon convinced him that he was neither deficient 
in spirit, nor ignorant of his duty as a military commander. 

The following circumstances that occurred during the stay of 
the British troops at Cambridge, and the letters which passed be- 
tween the olficers, at once show the difficulties which arose in the 
path of duty prescribed to general Heath, and the promptness and 
vigor with which he met and surmounted them. 

Soon after the arrival of the British generals at Cambridge, they 
made an insidious attempt to retain the chief command over their 
own troops. In a conversation, general Phillips turning to gene- 
ral Heath, observed, "Sir, you well know the disposition of sol- 
diers, and that they will more or less, in all armies, commit some 
disorders; suppose you should delegate to general Burgoyne the 
power of seeing your orders executed?" 

General Heath promptly replied, "that he knew the disposition 
of soldiers, and also the necessity of order and discipline ; that he 
was not only willing, tut expected that general Burgoyne, and 
every other ofiicer, would exert themselves to keep them in order. 
But as to the exercise of his own command, and enforcement of 
his own orders when necessary, that was a jurisdiction which gen- 
eral Burgoyne must not expect to exercise while here." 

For two weeks after his arrival in Boston, general Burgo} ne had 



204 WILLIAM HEATir. 

neglected upon trifling excuses, to sign his parole in the manner 
specified in the articles of capitulation. Finding him thus dispo- 
sed to evade, general Heath addressed him in the following letter : 
Head-Quarters, Boston, Nov. 23, 1777. 

Sir — Two weeks have now elapsed since I had fully expected 
that the officers would have signed their paroles. They have, 
during this time, been enjoying, in a great measure, the liberty of 
the limits intended to be assigned to them, without pledging their 
honor by parole; which is not only contrary to the established cus- 
tom of nations, but contrary to the eleventh article of the conven- 
tion. I must, therefore, in the most explicit terms, insist that the 
officers who wish and expect to be permitted on parole, agreeably 
to the convention, do sign it to-morrow. This is so reasonable, 
that I expect there will be no ftirther hesitancy ; and I still assure 
your excellency, that no endeavors of mine shall be wanting to 
fulfil the convention, and to treat the officers with politeness and 
generosity. lam, &c. 

(Signed) WM. HEATH. 

November 8th, 1777, congress directed general Heath "to cause 
to be taken down the name and rank of every commissioned offi- 
cer, and the name, size, age, and description of every non-com- 
missioned officer and pi'ivate, and all other persons comprised in 
the convention made between lieutenant-general Burgoyne and 
major-general Gates, on the 16th of October, 1777, and transmit 
an authentic copy thereof to the board of war, in order that if any 
officer or soldier, or other person as above mentioned, of the said 
army, shall hereafter be found in arms against these states, during 
the present contest, he may be convicted of the offence, and sufier 
the punishment in such case inflicted b}'- the law of nations." 

Upon the foregoing being communicated to general Burgoyne, 
and he called upon to have said descriptive lists made out according- 
ly, he wrote our general the follov.'ing letter: 

Cambridge, Nov. 20, 1777. 

Sir — I have received a paper, dated head-quarters, Boston, 

Nov. 20th, purporting to be founded upon express orders from the 

honorable continental congress, which paper I return as inadmis- 

' sible, because extending to matters in which the congress have no 

right of intefference. 



WILLIAM HEATH. 205 

A list of the names and rank of every commissioned officer, 
and the numbers of the non-commissioned officers and soldiers, may 
be necessary to you, sir, for the purpose of fulfilling the conven- 
tion, in quartering officers, and the regular delivery of provisions, 
fuel, (fee. Such lists shall be prepared at your request ; but before 
any other list can be granted, I must be assured of the purposes 
for which they are intended, and the word order must neither be 
mentioned or implied. I have the honor to be, &c. 

(Signed) J. BURGOYNE, Lieut. Gen. 

To the foregoing, our general wrote an answer as follows : 

Head- Quarters, Boston, Nov. 21, 1777. 
Sir — Yours of yesterday is before me ; and although you might 
at first imagine that the honorable continental congress have no 
right of interference in matters of the convention, yet I conclude, 
upon further reflection you must be convinced, that as that body 
are the representatives of that people who are to reap the advan- 
tages or disadvantages of the convention, and as all continental 
officers are acting by virtue of their authority, and under their di- 
rection, they assuredly have a right of interference, and to give 
such orders to their officers as they may think proper for the full 
completion of the convention, and for the safety and good of the 
people. 

I must therefore insist that you furnish me with proper lists of 
names, and descriptions, for the purposes before mentioned, as 
soon as may be. 

I shall at all times endeavor to found my orders on the princi- 
ples of honor, reason and justice, and not to infringe those deli- 
cate principles in others; but my orders for the purposes of order 
and regularity, must be obeyed by every man and all bodies of 
men, placed under my direction; and fully determined I am, that 
offenders shall not pass with impunity. I am, &c. 

(Signed) W. HEATH. 

Gen. Burgoyne, had received intimations that a fleet of trans- 
ports was about to come round for the troops, and that the Jvno 
frigate was to wear a flag for his particular accommodation. This 
he mentioned to general Heath, and wished to know if the frigate 
might come up into the harbor. General Heath had no appre- 
hensions of any danger from a frigate entering the harbor, but ap- 



206 WILLIAM IIEATri. 

prehended that some people might think that he was not sufficient- 
ly vigilant, in case he allowed it. He therefore told general Bur- 
goyne, that the frigate could not come up into the harbor, and hint- 
ed to him the taking of the most convenient transport in the fleet 
for the purpose ; and he might do as he pleased when he got ofi'. 
This touched general Burgoyne exceedingly, who wrote a letter to 
general Heath, in which was the following paragraph : 

"As to your allotment of a ^convenient transport for my pas- 
sage, if it was from yourself, I am to thank you, sir, for a sort of 
insult, which the most haughty man of office would be ashamed of, 
in any other country. However, as I am determined every trans- 
action concerning this convention shall be notorious, and beyond 
the powers of subterfuge to explain away, 1 have directed the fri- 
gate together with the transports, to come round ; and it will then 
1)3 for you, sir, to prohibit the entry of Boston harbor, to any ships 
bearing a flag of truce, and declaring they are sent for the express 
purpose of conveying to Great Britain any part of the troops of 
the convention. 

(Signed) J. BURGOYNE. 

To which general Heath wrote the following answer: 

Head Quarters, Boston, Jan. 5, 1778. 
Sir — Your excellency's favor of yesterday came duly to hand, 
and I must confess I was not a little surprised at some expres- 
sions in it. 

As by the convention transports only are stipulated to receive 
the troops, I submit to you, sir, whether a hint (if you were even 
sure that it came from myself,) that you should take a convenient 
one, rather than introduce a frigate, which is neither expressed 
nor implied in the convention, merits those epithets which you 
are pleased to bestow on me. 

I have ever aimed to treat you with politeness; and the plighted 
faith and honor of my country require me to pay strict attention 
to the convention on their part: of course, when transports arrive 
to receive troops, they will enter the harbor; and if you can find 
by the convention, that a frigate is to enter for the particular re- 
ception of yourself, she will not be prohibited. But if it is rather 
uncommon for ships of war to bear flags of truce, and if consenting 
to it in the present case should appear to be rather an act of po' 



WILLIAM IIEATil. 207 

liteness and generosity than otherwise, I leave you to your own 
reflections, whether you have made choice of the most happy ex- 
pressions to obtain it. (Signed) W. HEATH. 

Another serious matter took place about this time. Colonel 
Henley, who had the immediate command at Cambridge, a brave 
and good officer, but warm and quick in his natural temper, having 
ordered some prisoners who were under guard, to be turned out, 
that he might examine them, one of them treated him, as he judged , 
with much insolence, upon which he pricked him whh a sword or 
bayonet. General Burgoyne immediately presented a complaint 
against colonel Henley, charging him with barbarous and wanton 
conduct and intentional murder, as appears in the following letter : 

Cambridge, Jan. 9, 1778. 
Sir — A report has been made to me, of a disturbance that hap- 
pened at the barracks on Wednesday afternoon, for which I am 
much concerned; and though the provocations from your people, 
which originally occasioned it, were of the most atrocious nature, 
I was willing the offender on our part should be properly punished. 
But Colonel Henly, not content with that, made prisoners of eigh- 
teen innocent men, and sent them on board a guard-ship, as -alleged 
by your order. It is not only a duty to my situation, to demand the 
immediate discharge of these men, together with a satisfactory 
apology; but I also mean it as an attention to you, sir, that I give 
you an immediate o}>portunity to disavow so unjustifiable a pro- 
ceeding, as committing men to the worst of prisons upon vague 
report, caprice, and passion. I am, &c. 

(Signed) J. BURGOYNE. 

To which our general returned the following answer: 

Head-Quarters, Jan. 10, 1778. 
Sir — Yours of yesterday's date, I received last evening. What 
provocations you allude to, as having been offered by my troops, 
I am at a loss to determine. The insults and abuses which they 
have received, I will venture to say, unless I have been most 
grossly misinformed, are unparallelled ; and whether you are wil- 
ling or unwilling, sir, offenders shall no longer pass with impunity. 
If it can be made to appear that any of those soldiers sent to the 
guard-ship by my orders, are innocent, they shall be released from 
their confinement. But with respect to such as have been guilty 



208 WILLIAM HEATH. 

of violating my standing orders of the garrison, instead of dis- 
avowing or making any apology for the confinement of such, be 
assured that I do most explicitly avow it. And, as I have before 
observed to your excellency in a former letter, of which you may 
be assured, I shall at all times endeavor to found my orders on the 
principles of honor, reason, and justice, and not to infringe those de- 
licate principles in others; so also be assured, sir, that such my 
orders shall be obeyed by every officer and soldier placed under 
my direction ; and such as have the hardiness to transgress them, 
shall abide the consequences. I am, &.c. 

(Signed) W. HEATH. 

June 17th, 1778, a British officer was shot by an American 
sentinel, the officer attempting to pass, contrary to the standing 
orders. The sentinel was immediately reheved and put under 
guard, to await a legal trial. Upon receiving an official account, 
general Heath immediately informed major-general Phillip^' who 
was now the senior British officer, (Burgoyne having sailed for 
England,) of the circumstance, and of his determination to give 
the offender a fair trial. A few minutes after general Heath had 
sent his letter, he received the following from general Phillips : 

Cambridge, June 17, 1778. 
Murder and death has at length taken place. An officer, riding 
out from the barracks on Prospect Hill, has been shot by an Amer- 
ican sentinel. I leave the horrors incident to that bloody dispo- 
tion, which has joined itself to rebellion in these colonies, to the 
feelings of all Europe. I do not ask for justice, for I verily be- 
lieve that every principle of it is fled from this province. I demand 
liberty to send an officer to Sir Henry Clinton, by way of the head- 
quarters of general Washington, with my report of this murder. 
(Signed) W. PHILLIPS. 

The next morning our general wrote the following to general 
Phillips, by the hands of lieutenant-colonel Pollard, who was or- 
dered to post a sufficient number of sentinels to confine general 
Phillips to the liniits assigned himj and then to inform the next 
senior officer that general Phillips was confined. 

Head-Quarters, Boston, June 18, 1778. 
Sir— Were it even certain that the shooting of the officer was 
an act of the most deliberate and wilful murder, wljy should you 



WILLIAM HEATH. 209 

charge these free, independent states with a bloody disposition 
and with rebellion, and this state in particular as void of every 
principle of justice ? Although I ever had, and still have a per- 
sonal regard for you, and wish in every respect to treat you with 
the utmost generosity; yet that duty which 1 owe to the honor and 
dignity of the United States, will not allow me to pass unnoticed 
such expressions as are contained in your letter; and I cannot put 
any other interpretation upon them, than that they are a violent 
infraction of your parole, most sacredly given. I do conceive it to 
be my duty, and I do hereby restrict you to the limits of your 
house, gardens, and yard, and to the direct road from your quarters 
to the quarters of the troops of the convention, on Prospect and 
Winter Hills; expecting from you a parole for propriety of conduct 
within those limits; which if you refuse, I shall be under the ne- 
cessity of ordering you to narrower limits, until I can obtain the 
pleasure of the honorable congress touching this matter; to whom 
I shall transmit your letter, and crave their directions. 
I am, your obedient servant, 

(Signed) W. HEATH, Maj. Gen. 

General Phillips continuing to exhibit the same temper, he was 
kept under arrest until the troops of the convention were ordered 
to be removed to Charlottesville, in Virginia; when general Heath 
was relieved altogether of his troublesome guests. 

In June, 1779, general Heath was elected by congress a com- 
missioner of the board of war, with a salary of four thousand dol- 
lars per annum, and allowed to retain his rank in the army, which 
he declined, preferring to participate in active operations in the 
field. 

In the summer of 1780, he was directed by the commander-in- 
chief to repair to Rhode-Island, to make arrangements for the re- 
ception of the French fleet and army, which were expected soon 
to arrive. In his interview with the count Rochambeau, and 
other officers of the French army and navy, he proffered his friend- 
ly civilities, and contributed all in his power to their comfortable 
accommodation, which was productive of a mutual and lasting 
friendship between them. Indefatigable attention to duty, in the 
various stations assigned him, w^as a prominent trait in his charac- 
ter. In May, 1781, general Heath was directed by the comman- 
19 



210 WILLIAM ALEXANDER. 

der-in-chief to repair to the New-England states, to represent to 
their respective executives the distressing condition of our army, 
and to solicit a speedy supply of provisions and clothing, in which 
he was successful. As senior major-general, he was more than 
once commander of the right wing of our army, and during the 
absence of the commander-in-chief at the siege of York-Town, 
he was intrusted with the command of the main army, posted at 
the Highlands and vicinity, to guard the important works on the 
Hudson. On the 24th of June, 1784, hostilities having ceased 
between the two armies, general Washington addressed a letter 
to general Heath, expressing his thanks for his meritorious servi- 
ces, and his great affection and esteem, and on the same day they 
took their final leave. 

Such was general Heath's public life. His private one v;as re- 
tired and domestic, amiable, orderly, and industrious, but not re- 
markable for hospitality, or a liberal appropriation of property to 
public purposes. He died at Roxbury, January 24, 1814, aged 
seventy -seven years. — Thachers Military J onrnal. 



WILLIAM ALEXANDER, 

Major-General in the American Army. 
General William Alexander, commonly called lord Stirling. 
was a native of the city of New-York. He was considered, by 
many, as. the rightful heir to the title and estate of an earldom in 
Scotland, of which country his father was a native ; and although 
when he went to North Britain in pursuit of this inheritance, he 
failed of obtaining an acknowledgment of his claim by govern- 
ment; yet, among his friends and acquaintances, he received, by 
courtesy, the title of lord Stirling. In his youth, his labors were 
arduous in the pursuit of science, and he discovered an early 
fondness for the study of mathematics and astronomy, in which 
he attained great eminence. 

At the commencement of the revolutionary war, he attached 
himself to the cause of America, and entered the field against her 
enemies. He was a brave, discerning, and intrepid officer. In 
the battle on Long Island, August 27th, 1776, he shared largely in 
the glory and disasters of the day. The part he bore in that en- 
gagement is described as follows : — "The fire towards Brooklyn. 



WILLIAM ALEXANDER. 211 

gave the first intimation to the American right that the enemy had 
gained their rear- Lord Stiriing, perceiving the danger with 
which he was threatened, and tliat he could only escape it by in- 
stantly retreating across the creek by the Yellow Mills, not far 
from the cove, orders to this effect were immediately given; and 
the more effectually to secure the retreat of the main body of the 
detachment, he determined to attack, in person, a corps of the 
British under lord Cornwallis, stationed at a house somewhat a- 
bove the place at which he proposed crossing the creek. About 
four hundred men were chosen out for this purpose ; and the attack 
was made with great spirit. This small corps was brought up to 
the charge several times, and lord Stirling stated that he was on 
ihe point of dislodging lord Cornwallis from his post ; but the force 
■in his front increasing, and general Grant advancing on his rear, 
the brave men he commanded were no longer able to oppose the 
superior numbers which assailedthem on every quarter, and those 
who survived were, with their general, made prisoners of war. — 
This bold and well-judged attempt, though unsuccessful, was pro- 
ductive of great advantages. It gave an opportunity to a large 
part of the detachment to save themselves by crossing the creek. 
Immediately after his exchange, lord Stirling joined the army 
under the immediate command of general Washington. In the 
battle of Germantown, his division, and the brigade of generals 
Nash and Maxwell, formed the corps of reserve. At the battle of 
Monmouth, he commanded the left wing of the American army. 
At an important period of the engagement, he brought up a de- 
tachment of artillery, commanded by lieutenant-colonel Carring- 
ton, with some field-pieces, which played with great effect on the 
€nemy, who were pressing on to the charge. These pieces, with 
the aid of several parties of infantry detached for the purpose, 
effectually put a stop to their advance. The American artillery 
maintained their ground with admirable firmness, under a heavy 
lire from the British field artillery. 

His attachment to Washington was proved in the latter part of 
1777, by transmitting to him an account of the disaffection of gen- 
eral Conway to the commander-in-chief. In the letter he said, 
^•such wicked duplicity of conduct I shall always think it my duty 
to detect.'" He died at Albany, Jan. 15th, 1783, aged 57 years. 



212 JAJIES CLINTON, 

JAMES CLINTON, 
Major-General in the American Armv. 
General James Clinton was the fourth son of colonel Charles 
Clinton, and born in Ulster county, New-York, August 19th, 1736. 
In common with his brothers, he received an excellent education. 
In the critical and eventful affairs of nations, when their rights 
and their interests are invaded. Providence, in the plentitude of 
bis beneficence, has generally provided men qualified to raise the 
standard of resistance, and has infused a redeeming spirit into the 
community, which enabled it to rise superior to the calamities that 
menaced its liberty and its prosperity. History does not record a 
more brilliant illustration of this truth than the American revolu- 
tion. In defiance of the most appalling considerations, constella- 
tions of the most illustrious men pierced the dark and gloomy 
clouds which enveloped this oppressed people, and shone forth in 
the councils and the armies of the nation. Their wisdom drew 
forth the resources, and their energy vindicated the rights of Ame- 
rica. They took their lives in their hands, and liberty or death 
was inscribed on their hearts. Amidst this gallant band, general 
Clinton stood deservedly conspicuous. To an iron constitution, 
and an invincible courage, he added great coolness in action and 
perseverance in effort. The predominant inclination of his mind 
was to a military life, and by a close attention to the studies con- 
nected with it, he prepared himself to perform those duties which 
afterwards devolved upon him, and thereby established his char- 
acter as an intrepid and skilful officer. 

In the war of 1756, usually denominated the French war, Clin- 
ton first encountered the fatigues and dangers of a military life. — 
He was a captain under colonel Bradstreet, at the capture of Fort 
Frontenac, and rendered essential service in that expedition by 
the capture of a sloop of war on Lake Ontario. 

"His company was placed in row-galleys, and favored by a 
calm, compelled the French vessel to strike, after an obstinate re- 
sistance. His designation as captain commandant of the four com- 
panies raised for the protection of the western frontiers of the 
counties of Orange and Ulster, was a post of great responsibility 
and hazard, and demonstrated the confidence of the government. 
The safety of a line of settlements, extending at least fifty miles. 



JAMES CLINTON. 213 

v.as intrusted to his vigilance and intrepidity. The ascendency 
of the French over the ruthless savages was always predominant, 
and the inhabitant of the frontiers was compelled to hold the 
plough with one hand for his sustenance, and to grasp his gun with 
the other for his defence ; and he was continually in danger of be- 
ing awakened, in the hour of darkness, by the war-whoop of the 
savages, to witness the conflagration of his dwelling and the mur- 
der of his family. 

After the termination of the French war, Mr. Clinton married 
Mary Do Witt, and he retired from the camp to enjoy the repose 
of domestic life. 

When the American revolution was on the eve of its commence- 
ment, he was appointed, on the 30th of June, 1775, by the conti- 
nental congress, colonel of the 3d regiment of New- York forces. 
On the 25th of October following, he was appointed by the pro- 
vincial congress of New-York, colonel of the regiment of foot in 
Ulster county; on the 8th of March, 1776, by the continental con- 
gress, colonel of the second battalion of New-York troops; and, 
on the 9th of August, 1776, a brigadier-general in the army of the 
United States; in which station he continued during the gi-eatest 
part of the war, having the command of the New-York line, or 
the troops of that state; and at its close he was constituted a ma- 
jor-general. 

In 1775, his regiment composed part of the army under general 
Montgomery, which invaded Canada; and he participated in all 
the fatigues, dangers, and privations of that celebrated but unfor- 
, tunate expedition. 

In October, 1777, he commanded at Fort Clinton, which, to- 
gether with its neighbor, Foi't Montgomery, constituted the defence 
of the Hudson river, against the ascent of an enemy. His bro- 
ther, the governor, commanded in chief at both forts. Sir Henry 
Clinton, with a view to create a diversion in favor of general Bur- 
goyne, moved up the Hudson, with an army of four thousand men, 
and attacked those works, which were very imperfectly fortified, 
and only defended by five hundred men, composed principally of 
militia. After a most gallant resistance, the forts were carried by 
storm. General Clinton was tlae last man who left the works, and 
not until he was severely wounded by the thrust of a bayonet, pur- 
19* 



214 JAMES CLINTON. 

sued and fired at by the enemy, and his attending servant killed. 
He bled profusely, and when he dismounted from his war horse, in 
order to effect his escape from the enemy, who were close on him, 
it occurred to him that he must either perish on the mountains or 
be captured, unless he could supply himself with another horse; 
an animal which sometimes roamed at large in that wild region. 
In this emergency, he took the bridle from his horse and slid down 
a precipice of one hundred feet to the ravine of the creek which 
separated the forts, and feeling cautiously his way along its pre- 
cipitous banks, he reached the mountain at a distance from the 
enemy, after having fallen into the stream, the cold water of which 
arrested a copious efTusion of blood. The return of light furnish- 
ed him with the sight of a horse, which conveyed him to his house, 
about sixteen miles from the fort, where he arrived about noon, 
covered with blood, and laboring under a severe fever. In his 
helpless condition the British passed up the Hudson, within a few 
miles of his house, and destroyed the town of Kingston. 

The cruel ravages and horrible irruptions of the Iroquois, or 
Six Nations of Indians, on our frontier settlements, rendered it 
necessary to inflict a terrible chastisement, which would prevent 
a repetition of their atrocities. An expedition was accordingly 
planned, and the principal command was committed to general Sul- 
livan, who was to proceed up the Susquehannali, with the main 
body of the army, while general Clinton was to join him by the 
way of the Mohawk. 

The Iroquois inhabited, or occasionally occupied, that immense 
and fertile region which composes the western parts of New-York 
and Pennsylvania, and besides their own ravages, from the vici- 
nity of their settlements to the inhabited parts of the United States, 
they facilitated the inroads of the more remote Indians. When 
general Sullivan was on his way to the Indian country, he was 
joined by general Clinton, with upwards of sixteen hundred men. 
The latter had gone up the Mohawk in batteaux, from Schenec- 
tady, and after ascending that river about forty-four miles, he con- 
veyed his batteaux from Canajoharie to the head of Otsego lake, 
one of the sources of the Susquehannah. Finding the stream of 
water in that river too low to float his boats, he erected a dam across 
the mouth of the lake, which soon rose to the altitude of the dam. 



JAMES CLINTON. 215 

Having got his batteaux ready, he opened a passage through the 
dam for the water to flow. This raised the river so high that he 
was enabled to embark all his troops, to float them down to Tioga, 
and to join general Sullivan in good season. The Indians collec- 
ted their strength at Newton, took possession of proper ground, 
and fortified it with judgment; and on the 29th of August, 1779, an 
attack was made on them, their works were forced, and their con- 
sternation was so great that they abandoned all further resistance; 
for, as the Americans advanced into their settlements, they re- 
treated before them without throwing any obstructions in their 
way. The army passed between the Cayuga and Seneca lakes, 
by Geneva and Canandaigua, and as far west as the Genesee ri- 
ver, destroying large settlements, and villages, and fields of corn, 
orchards of fruit trees, and gardens abounding with esculent veg- 
etables. The progress of the Indians in agriculture, struck the 
Americans with astonishment. Many of their ears of corn meas- 
ured twenty-two inches in length. They had horses, cows, and 
hogs, in abundance. They manufactured salt and sugar, raised 
the best apples and peaches, and their dwellings were large and 
commodious. The desolation of their settlements, the destruction 
of their provisions, and the conflagration of their houses, drove 
them to the British fortresses of Niagara for subsistence, where 
living on salt provisions, to which they were unaccustomed, they 
died in great numbers; and the effect of this expedition was, to di- 
minish their population, to damp their ardor, to check their arro- 
gance, to restrain their cruelty, and to inflict an irrecoverable blow 
on their resources of extensive aggression. 

For a considerable portion of the war, general Clinton was sta- 
tioned at Albany, where he commanded in the norther ndepartment 
of the union, a place of high responsibility, and requiring uncom- 
mon vigilance and continual exertion. An incident occurred when 
on this command, which strongly illustrates his character. A re- 
giment which had been ordered to march, mutinied under arms, 
and peremptorily refused obedience. The general, on being ap- 
prised of this, immediately repaired, with his pistols, to the ground ; 
he went up to the head of the regiment and ordered it to march ; 
a silence ensued, and the order was not complied with. He then 
presented a pistol to the breast of a sergeant, who was the ringlea- 



216 JAMES CLINTON. 

der, and commanded him to proceed, on pain of death j and so on in 
succession along tlie line ,• and his command was in every instance 
obeyed, and the regiment restored to entire and complete subordi- 
nation and submission. 

General Clinton was at the siege of York-Town, and the cap- 
ture of Cornwallis, where he distinguished himself by his usual 
intrepidity. His last appearance in arms was on the evacuation 
of the city of New- York. by the British. He then bid the com- 
mander-in-chief, a final and affectionate adieu, and retired to his 
ample estates, where he enjoyed that repose which was required 
by a long period of fatigue and privation. 

He was, however, frequently called from his retirement, by the 
unsolicited voice of his fellow-citizens, to perform civic duties. — 
He was appointed a commissioner to adjust the boundary line be- 
tween Pennsylvania and New-York, which important measure was 
amicably and successfully accomplished. He was also selected 
by the legislature for an interesting mission to settle controversies 
about lands in the west, which also terminated favorably. He 
represented his native county in the assembly and in the conven- 
tion that adopted the present constitution of the United States, and 
lie was elected, without opposition, a senator from the Middle 
district; all which trusts he executed with perfect integrity, with 
solid intelligence, and with the full approbation of his constituents. 
The temper of general Clinton was mild and affectionate, but 
when raised by unprovoked or unmerited injury, he exhibited ex- 
traordinary and appalling energy. In battle he was as cool and as 
collected as if sitting by his fire-side. Nature intended him for a 
gallant and efficient soldier, when she endowed him with the fac- 
ulty of entire self-possession in the midst of the greatest dangers. 
He died on the 22dof December, 1812, and was interred in the 
family burial-place in Orange county, and his monumental stone 
bears the following inscription : 

"Underneath are interred the remains of James Clinton, esquire. 
"He was born the 9th of August, 1736; and died the 22d of 
December, 1812. 

"His life was principally devoted to the military service of his 
country, and he had filled with fidelity and honor several distin- 
guished civil offices. 



THOMAS COJVWAY. 217 

'•He was an officer in the revolutionary war, and the war pre- 
cedino-; and at the close of the former was a major-general in the 
army of the United States. He was a good man and a sincere 
patriot, performing, in the most exemplary manner, all the duties 
of life rand he died, as he lived, without fear, and without re- 
proach." — American Biographical Dictionary. 



THOMAS CONWAY, 
Major-General in the American Army. 
General Thomas Conway was born in Ireland, and went with 
his parents to France, at the age of six years, and was from his 
youth, educated to the profession of arms. He had obtained con- 
siderable reputation as a military officer, and as a man of sound 
understanding aixl judgment. He arrived from France with am- 
ple recommendations, and congress appointed him a brigadier- 
general in May, 1777. He soon became conspicuously inimical 
to general Washington, and sought occasions to traduce his char- 
acter. In this he found support from a ' faction in congress, who 
were desirous that the commander-in-chief should be superseded. 
The congress not long after elected general Conway to the office 
of inspector-general to our army, with the rank of major-general, 
though he had insulted the commander-in-chief, and justified him- 
self in doing so. This gave umbrage to the brigadiers over whom 
he was promoted, and they remonstrated to congress against the 
proceeding, as implicating their honor and character. Conway, 
now smarting under the imputation of having instigated a hostile 
faction against the illustrious Washington, and being extremely 
unpopular among the officers in general, and finding his situation 
did not accord with his feelings and views, resigned his commis- 
sion, without having commenced the duties of inspector. He was 
believed to be an unprincipled intriguer, and after his resignatioc, 
his calumny and detraction of the commander-in-chief, and army 
generally, were exercised with unrestrained virulence and outrage. 
No man was moi'e zealously engaged in the scheme of elevating 
general Gates to the station of commander-in-chief. His vile in- 
sinuations and direct assertions, in the public newspapers, and in 
private conversations, relative to the incapacity of Washingtoi. to 
conduct the operations of the army, received countenance from 



218 ETHAN ALLEN. 

several members of congress, who were induced to declare their 
want of confidence in him, and the affair assumed an aspect threat- 
ening the most disastrous consequences. Conway maintained a 
correspondence \fvith general Gates on the subject, and in one of 
his letters he thus expresses himself: "Heaven has been deter- 
mined to save your country, or a weak general and bad counsellors 
M'ould have ruined it." He was himself at that time one of the 
counsellors against whom he so basely inveighs. Envy and malice 
ever are attendant on exalted genius and merit. But the delusion 
was of short continuance: the name of Washington proved unas- 
sailable, and the base intrigue of Conway recoiled with bitterness 
on his own head. — Thaclicr''s Military Journal. 

General Cadwallader, of Pennsylvania, indignant at the attempt 
to vilify the character of Washington, resolved to avenge himself 
on the aggressor in personal combat. The particulars of thi^ 
meeting are given in the biography of general Cadwallader. — 
General Conway, conceiving his wound to be mortal, and believ- 
ing death to be near, acted honorably in addressing to general 
Washington, whom he had perfidiously slandered, the following 
letter of apology : 

Philadelphia, Feb. 23, 1778. 
Sir — I find myself just able to hold my pen during a few 
minutes, and take this opportunity of expressing my sincere grief 
for having- done, written, or said any thing disagreeable to your 
excellency. My career will soon be over; therefore, justice and 
truth prompt me to declare my last sentiments. You are, in my 
eyes, the great and good man. May you long enjoy the love, 
esteem, and veneration of these states, whose liberties you have* 
asserted by your virtues. I airi, with the greatest respect. 
Your excellency's most obedient and humble servant, 

THS. CONWAY. 



ETHAN ALLEN, 

Brigadier-General in the American Army. 

General Allen was born in Salisbury, Connecticut, from 

whence, while he was yet young, his pai'ents emigrated to Ver- 

ment. By this circumstance he was deprived of the advantages 

of an early education. But, although he never felt its genial in- 



ETHAN ALLEN. 219 

fiuence, nature had endowed him with strong powers of mind, and 
when called to take the field, he showed himself an able leader, 
and an intrepid soldier. 

At the commencement of the disturbances in Vermont, about 
the year 1770, he took a most active part in favor of the Green 
Mountain Boys, as the first settlers were then called, in opposition 
to the government of New-York. Bold, enterprising, and ambi- 
tious, he undertook to direct the proceedings of the inhabitant>;, 
and wrote several pamphlets to display the supposed injustice and 
oppressive designs of the New-York proceedings. The unculti- 
vated roughness of his own temper and manners seems to have 
assisted him in giving a just description of the views and proceed- 
ings of speculative land-jobbers. His writings produced effects so 
hostile to the views of the state of New-York, that an act of out- 
lawry was passed against him, and five hundred guineas were 
offered for his apprehension. But his party was too numerous and 
faithful, to permit him to be disturbed by any apprehensions for 
his safety. In all the struggles of the day he was successful, and 
proved a valuable friend to those whose cause he had espoused. 

The news of the battle of Lexington determined Allen to en- 
gage on the side of his country, and inspired him with the desire 
of demonstrating his attachment to liberty by some bold exploit. 
While in this state of mind, a plan for taking Ticonderoga and 
Crown Point by surprise, which was formed by several gentlemen 
in Connecticut, was communicated to him, and he readily engaged 
in the project. Receiving directions from the general assembly 
of Connecticut, to raise the Green Mountain Boys and conduct the 
enterprise, he collected two hundred and thirty of the hardy set- 
tlers, and proceeded to Castleton. Here he was unexpectedly 
joined by colonel Arnold, who had been commissioned by the 
Massachusetts committee to raise four hundred men, and effect 
the same object which was now about to be accomplished. They 
reached the lake, opposite Ticonderoga, on the evening of the 9th 
* of May, 1775. With the utmost difficulty boats were procured, 
and eighty-three men were landed near the garrison. Arnold 
now wished to assume the command and lead on the men ; but 
Allen objected, and it was agreed that they should both advance 
together. The following is Allen's own account of the affair: — 



220 ETHAN ALLEN. 

"It was with the utmost difficulty that I procured boats to cross 
the lake. However, I landed eighty-three men near the garrison, 
and sent the boats back for the rearguard, commanded by colonel 
Seth Warner; but the day began to dawn, and I found myself ne- 
cessitated to attack the fort before the rear guard could cross the 
lake ; and as it was viewed hazardous, I harangued the officers and 
soldiers in the manner following: 'Friends and fellow-citizens, 
you have for a number of years past been a scourge and terror to 
arbitrary powers. Your valor has been famed abroad, and ac- 
knowledged, as appears by the advice and orders to me from the 
general assembly of Connecticut, to surprise and take the garrison 
now before 'US. I now propose to advance before you, and in per- 
son conduct )^ou through the wicket-gate; for we must this morning 
either quit our pretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this 
fortress in a few minutes; and inasmuch as it is a desperate at- 
tempt, which none but the bravest of men dare undertake, I do 
not urge it on any contrary to his will. You that, will undertake 
voluntarily, poise your firelocks.' 

"The men being at this time drawn up in three ranks, each, 
poised his firelock. I ordered them to face to the right, and at the 
head of the centre file, marched them immediately to the wicket- 
gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry posted, who instantly snap- 
ped his fusee at me. I ran immediately towards him, and he re- 
treated through the covered way into the parade within the garri- 
son, gave a halloo, and ran under a bomb-proof My party, who 
followed me into the fort, I formed on the parade in such a manner 
as to face the barracks, which faced each other. The garrison be- 
ing asleep, except the sentries, we gave three huzzas, which greatly 
surprised them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my 
officers with a charged bayonet, and slightly wounded him. My 
first thought was to kill him with my sword, but in an instant I al- 
tered the design and fury of the blow to a slight cut on the side of 
the head ; upon which he dropped his gun and asked quarters, 
which I readily granted him ; and demanded the place where the 
commanding officer kept. He showed me a pair of stairs in the 
front of the garrison, which led up to a second story in said bar- 
racks, to which I immediately repaired, and ordered the comman- 
der, captain Delaplace, to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice 



ETHAN ALLEX. 221 

the whole garrison; at which time the captain came immediately 
to the door with his breeches in his liand, when I ordered him to 
deliver tome the fort instantly ; he asked me by What authority I 
demanded it. I answered him, 'In the nanle of the Great Jehovah 
and the continental congress.' The authority of congress beino^ 
very little known at that time, he began to speak again; but I in- 
terrupted him, and with my drawn sword near his head, again de- 
manded an immediate surrender of the garrison; with which he 
then complied, and ordered his men to be forthwith paraded with- 
out arms, as he had given up the garrison. In the mean time, 
some of my officers had given orders, and in consequence thereof, 
sundry of the barrack doors were beat down, and about one-third 
of the garrison imprisoned, which consisted of said commander, 
a lieutenant Feltham, a conductor of artillery, a gunner, two ser- 
geants, and forty-four rank and file ; abopt one hundred pieces of 
cannon, one thirteen inch mortar, and a number of swivels- This 
surprise was carried into execution in the gray of the morning on 
the 10th of May, 1776. The sun seemed to rise that morning 
with a superior lustre ; and Ticonderoga and its dependencies 
smiled on its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bowl, and 
wished success to congress, and the liberty and freedom of Amer- 
ica. Happy it was for me, at that time, that the future pages of 
fate, which afterwards unfolded a miserable scene of two years 
and eight months' imprisonment, were' hid from my view." 

This brilliant exploit secured to Allen a high reputation for in- 
trepid valor throughout the country. In the fall of 1775, he was 
sent twice into Canada to observe the dispositions of the people, 
and attach them, if possible, to the American cause. During one 
of these excursions, he made a rash and romantic attempt upon 
Montreal. He had been sent by general Montgomery, with a 
guard of eighty men, on a tour into the villages in the neighbor- 
hood. On his return he was met by a major Brown, who had been 
on the same business. It was agreed between them to make a 
descent upon the island of Montreal, Allen was to cross the riv- 
er, and land with his party a little north of the city ; while Brown 
was to pass over a little to the south, with near two hundred men. 
Allen crossed the river in the night, as had been proposed ; but 
by some means, Brown and his party failed. Instead of return- 
20 



222 ETHAN ALLEN. 

ing, Allen, with greatrashness, concluded to maintain his ground. 
General Carlton soon received intelligence of Allen's situation 
and the smallness of his numbers, and marched out against him 
with about forty regulars, and a considerable number of English, 
Canadians and Indians, amounting, in the whole, to some hun- 
dreds. Allen attempted to defend himself, but it was to no pur- 
pose. Being deserted by several of his men, and having fifteen 
killed, he, with thirty-eight of his men, were taken prisoners. 

He was now kept for some time in irons, and was treated with 
the most rigorous and unsparing cruelty. From his narrative, it 
appears that the irons placed on him were uncomm.only heavy, 
and so fastened, that he could not lie down otherwise than on his 
back, A chest was his seat by day and his bed by night. Soon 
after his capture, still loaded with irons, he was sent to England, 
being assured that the halter would be the reward of his rebellion 
when he arrived there. Finding that threats and menaces had no 
effect upon him, high command and a large tract of the conquered 
country, were afterwards offered him, on condition that he would 
join the British. To the last he replied, "that he viewed their of- 
fer of conquered United States land to be similar to that which the 
devil offered to Jesus Christ: to give him all the kingdoms of the 
world, if he would fall down and worship him, when, at the same 
time, the poor devil had not one foot of land upon earth." 

After his arrival, about the middle of December, he was lodged, 
for a short time, in Pendennis castle, near Falmouth. On the 8th 
of January, 1776, he was put on board a frigate, and by a circu- 
itous route again carried to Halifax. Here he remained closely 
confined in the jail from June to October, when he was removed 
to New-York. During the passage to this place, captain Burke, 
a daring prisoner, proposed to kill the British captain, and seize 
the frigate ; but Allen refused to engage in the plot, and was pro- 
bably the means of saving the life of captain Smith, who had trea- 
ted him with kindness. He was kept at New-York about a year 
and a half, sometimes imprisoned, and sometimes permitted to be 
on parole. While here, he had an opportunity to observe the in- 
human manner in which the American prisoners were treated. — 
In one of the churches in which they were crowded, he saw seven 
lying dead at one time, and others biting pieces of chips fromhun- 



i 



JOHN CADWALADER. 223 

ger. He calculated, that of the prisoners taken on Long Island 
and at Fort Washington, near two thousand perished by hunger 
and cold, or in consequence of diseases occasioned by the impuri- 
ty of their prisons. 

Colonel Allen was exchanged for a colonel Campbell, May tith, 
1778, and after having repaired to head-quarters, and offered his 
services to general Washington, in case his health should be res- 
tored, he returned to Vermont. His arrival on the evening of the 
last day of May, gave his friends great joy, and it was announced 
by the discharge of cannon. As an expression of confidence in 
liis patriotism and military talents, he was very soon appointed to 
the command of the state militia. His intrepidity, however, was 
never again brought to the test, though his patriotism was tried by 
an unsuccessful attempt of the British to bribe him to attempt a 
union of Vermont with Canada. He died suddenly on his estate, 
February 13th, 1789. 

General Allen w-as brave, humane, and generous ; yet his con- 
duct does not seem to have been much influenced by considera- 
tions respecting that holy and merciful Being, whose character 
and whose commands are disclosed to us in the scriptures. His 
notions with regard to religion were loose and absurd. He be- 
lieved with Pythagoras, the heathen philosopher, that man, after 
death, would transmigrate into beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, &lc. 
and often informed his friends that he himself expected to live a- 
£ain in the form of a laro;e white horse. 



JOHN CADWALADER, 
Brigadier-General in the American Army. 

This zealous and inflexible friend of America was born in Phil- 
adelphia, 1742. He was distinguished for his intrepidity as a 
soldier, in upholding the cause of freedom during the most dis- 
couraging periods of danger and misfortune that America ever be- 
held. 

At the dawn of the revolution, he commanded a corps of volun- 
teers, designated as ^'the silk stocking company,'''' of wbi<!h nearly 
all the members were appointed to commissions in the line of the 
army. He afterwards was appointed colonel of one of the city 
battalions, and being thence promoted to the rank of brigadier- 



'22i JOHN CADWALADER. 

general, was intrusted with the command of the Pennsylvania 
troops, in the important operations of the winter campaign of 1776 
and 1777. He acted with this command as a volunteer, in the 
actions of Princeton, Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth, 
and on other occasions, and received the thanks of general Wash- 
ington, whose confidence and regard he uniformly enjoyed. 

The merits and services of general Cadwalader, induced con- 
gress, early in 1778, to compliment him, by a unanimous vote, 
with the appointment of general of cavalry; which appointment 
he declined, under an impression that he could be more i.seful to 
his country in the sphere in which he had been acting. 

He was strongly and ardently attached to general Washington, 
and his celebrated duel with general Conway, arose from his spir- 
ited opposition to the intrigues of that officer to undermine the stand- 
ing of the commander-in-chief. The following anecdote of the 
rencounter is related in the "Anecdotes of the Revolutionary 
War." 

"The particulars of this duel, originating in the honorable feel- 
ings of general Cadwalader, indignant at the attempt of his ad- 
versary to injure the reputation of the commander-in-chief, by 
representing him as unqualified for the exalted station which he 
held, appear worthy of record. Nor ought the coolness observed 
on the occasion by the parties to be forgotten, as it evinces very 
strongly, that though imperious circumstances may compel men 
of nice feeling to meet, the dictates of honor may be satisfied 
without the smallest deviation from the most rigid rules of polite- 
ness. When arrived at the appointed rendezvous, general Cad- 
walader accompanied by general Dickenson, of Pennsylvania, 
general Conway by colonel Morgan, of Princeton, it was agreed 
upon by the seconds, that on the word being given, the principals 
might fire in their own time, and at discretion, either by an off"- 
hand shot, or by taking a deliberate aim. The parties having de- 
clared themselves ready, the word was given to proceed. Gen- 
eral Conway immediately raised his pistol, and fired with great 
composure, but without effect. General Cadwalader was about 
to do so, when a sudden gust of wind occurring, he kept his pistol 
down and remained tranquil. 'Why do you not fire, general Cad- 
walader?' exclaimed Conway. 'Because,' replied general Cad- 



GEORGE CLINTON. 225 

walader, 'we came not here to trifle. Let the gale pass and I'shall 
act my part.' 'You shall have a fair chance of performing it well,' 
rejoined Conway, and immediately presented a full front. Gen- 
eral Cadwalader fired, and his ball entering the mouth of his an- 
tagonist, he fell directly forward on his face. Colonel Morgan 
running to his ' assistance, found the blood spouting from behind 
his neck, and lifting up the club of his hair, saw the ball drop from 
it. It had passed through his head, greatly to the derangement of 
his tongue and teeth, but did not inflict a mortal wound. As soon 
as the blood was suflSciently washed away to allow him to speak, 
general Conway, turning to his opponent, said, good humoredly, 
'You fire, general, with much deliberation, and certainly with a 
great deal of effect.' The parties then parted, free from all re- 
sentment." 

This patriotic and exemplary man died February 10th, 178G. 
In his private life he exemplified all the virtues that ennoble the 
character of man. His conduct was not marked with the least 
degree of malevolence or party spirit. . Those who honestly dif- 
fered from him in opinion, he always treated with singular tender- 
ness. In sociability and cheerfulness of temper, honesty and good- 
ness of heart, independence of spirit, and warmth of friendship, 
he had no superior. Never did any man die more lamented by 
his friends and neighbors; to his family and relations his death was 
a stroke still more severe. 



GEORGE CLIiNTON, 
Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
Among the many distinguished patriots of the revolution, who 
have become tenants of the tomb, the services of none will be 
more readily acknowledged than those of the late venerable 
George Clinton. He was descended from a respectable and v/or- 
thy family, and was born on the 2ath of July, 1739, in the county 
of Ulster, in the colony of New-York, His father, colonel Charles 
Clinton, was an emigrant from Ireland. 

In early youth he was put to the study of law, but long before 

he became a man, he rallied under the standaixl of his country, and 

assisted Amherst in the reduction of Montreal. In this campaign 

he nobly distinguished himself in a conflict on the northern wa- 

20* 



226 GEORGE CLINTON. 

ters, when, with four gun-boats, after a severe engagement, he cap- 
tured a French brig of eighteen guns. 

This war being ended, he returned again to his favorite pursuit, 
the science of the law, and placed himself under the tuition of 
chief justice Smith, where he became a student with Gouvemeur 
Morris, between whom and himself a difference of political opinion, 
in after life, wrought a separation. 

He had scarcely commenced as a practitioner, when, in 1764, 
the .storm appeared to gather around his native land, and the tyran- 
nic disposition of the mother coi uitry was manifested. Foreseeing 
the evil at hand, with a mind glowing with patriotism, correct and 
quick in its perceptions, and, like time, steady and fixed to the 
achievement of its objects, he abandoned the advantages of the 
profession to which he had been educated, and became a member 
of the colonial legislature, where he ever displayed a love of lib- 
erty, an inflexible attachment to the rights of his country, and that 
undaunted firmness and integrity, without which this nation never 
would have been free ; and which has ever formed the most bril- 
liant, though by no means the most useful trait of his character. — 
He was chief of the Whig party. 

In this situation he remained, contending against the doctrine 
of British supremacy; and with great strength of argument and 
force of popularity, supporting the rights of America, till the crisis 
arrived, when, in 1775, he was returned a member of that patriotic 
congress Avho laid the foundation of our independence. While in 
this venerable body, it may be said of him with truth, that "he 
strengthened the feeble knees, and the hands that hang down." 
On the 4th of July, 1776, he was present at the glorious declara- 
tion of independence, and assented with his usual energy and de- 
cision to that measure ; but having been appointed a brigadier-gen- 
eral in the militia, and also in the continental army, the exigencies 
of his country at that trying hour, rendered it necessary for him 
to take the field in person, and he therefore retired from congress 
immediately after his vote was given, and before the instrument 
was transcribed for the signatures of the members ,• for which rea- 
son his name does not appear among the signers. 

A constitution having been adopted for the state of New-York, 
in April, 1777, he was chosen, at the first election under it, both 



GEORGE CLINTON, 227 

governor and lieutenant-governor, and was continued in the former 
office for eighteen years. In this year he was also appointed by 
congress to command the post of the Highlands, a most important 
and arduous duty. The design of the enemy, was to separate 
New-England from the rest of the nation, and by preventing suc- 
cor from the east, to lay waste the middle and southern country. 
Had this plan been carried into effect, American liberty would pro- 
bably have expired in its cradle. It was then that his vast and com- 
prehensive genius viewed in its true light the magnitude of the 
evil contemplated ; and he roused to a degree of energ}- unknown 
and unexpected. It was then that Burgoyne Mas, with the best 
appointed army ever seen in America, attempting to force his way 
to Albany, and Howe attempting to effect a junction with him at 
that important place. 

The crisis was all-important, and Clinton' did not hesitate — he 
determined at all hazards to save his country. With this view, 
M'hen Howe attempted to ascend the river, Clinton, from every 
height and angle assailed him. His gallant defence of Fort Mont- 
gomery, with a handful of men, against a powerful force comman- 
ded by Sir Henry Clinton, was equally honorable to his intrepid- 
ity and his skill. The following are the particulars of his gallant 
conduct at the storming of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, in Oc- 
tober, 1777. 

"When tlie British reinforcements under general Robertson, 
amounting to nearly two thousand men, arrived from Europe, Sir 
Henry Clinton used the greatest exertion, and availed himself of 
every favorable circumstance, to put these troops into immediate 
operation. Many were sent to suitable vessels, and immediately 
united in the expedition, which consisted of about four thousand 
men, against the forts on the Highlands. Having made the neces- 
sary arrangements, he moved up the North river, and landed on 
the 4th of October, at Tarry-town, purposely to impress general 
Putnam, under whose command a thousand continental troops had 
been left, with a belief that his post at Peekskill was the object of 
attack. At eight o'clock at night, the general communicated the 
intelligence to governor Clinton, of the arrival of the British, and 
at the same time expressed his opinion respecting their destina- 
tion. The designs of Sir Henry, M^ere immediately perceived by 



228 GEORGE CLINTON. 

the governor, who prorogued the assembly on the following cfay, 
and arrived that night at Fori Montgomery. The British troops, 
in the meantime, were secretly conveyed across the river, and as- 
saults upon our forts were meditated to be made on the 6th, vyhich 
were accordingly put in execution, by attacking the American ad- 
vanced party at Doodle-town, about two miles and a half from Fort 
Montgomery. The Americans received the fire of the British, 
and retreated to Fort Clinton. The enemy then advanced to the 
west side of the mountain, in order to attack our troops in the rear. 
Governor Clinton immediately ordered out a detachment of one 
hundred men towards Doodle-town, and another of sixty, with a 
brass field-piece, to an eligible spot on another road. They were 
both soon attacked by the whole force of the enemy, and compel- 
led to pass back. It has been remarked that the talents, as well as 
the temper of the commander, are put to as severe a test in con- 
ducting a retreat as in achieving a victory. The truth of this, 
governor Clinton experienced, when, with great bravery, and the 
most perfect order, he retired till he reached the fort. He lost no 
time in placing his men in the best manner that circumstances 
would admit. His post, however, as well as Fort Clinton, in a 
few minutes were invaded on every side. In the midst of this dis- 
heartening and appalling disaster, he was summoned when the 
sun was only an hour high, to surrender in five minutes ; but his 
gallant spirit sternly refused to obey the call. In a short time after, 
the British made a general and most desperate attack on both posts, 
which was received by the Americans with undismayed courage 
and resistance. Officers and men, militia and continentals, all 
behaved alike brave. An incessant fire was kept up till dusk, 
when our troops were overpowered by numbers, who forced the 
lines and redoubts at both posts. Many of the Americans fought 
their way out, others accidentally mixed with the enemy, and thus 
made their escape effectually ; for, besides being favored by the 
night, they knew the various avenues in the mountains. The gov- 
ernor, as well as his brother, general James Clinton, who was 
wounded, were not taken." — American Biographical Dictionary. 
Howe, driven to madness by the manly resistance of his foes, 
inconsiderately landed and marched into the country, and immor- 
talized his name by burning Kingston and other villages. But the 



GEORGE CLINTON. 229 

gi-eat object of the expedition, the forming a junction with Bur- 
goyne, was happily defeated by the capture of that general, and 
America was free. 

From this moment, for eighteen years in succession, he remained 
the governor of New-York, re-elected to that important station by 
a generous and wise people, who knew how to appreciate his wis- 
dom and virtue, and their own blessings. During this period, he 
was president of the convention of that state, which ratified the 
national constitution; when, as in all other situations, he undevi- 
atingly manifested an ardent attachment to civil liberty. 

After the life of labor and usefulness here faintly portrayed ; 
worn with the fatigues of duty, and with a disease which then af- 
flicted him, but which had been removed for the last eight years 
•of his life; having led his native state to eminent, if not unrivalled 
importance and prosperity, he retired from public life, with a mind 
resolved not to mingle again with governmental concerns, and to 
taste tliose sweets which result from reflecting on a life well spent. 
Ill 1805, he was chosen vice-president of the United States, by 
the same number of votes that elevated Mr. Jefferson to the pre- 
sidency; in which station he discharged his duties with unremitted 
attention ; presiding with great dignity in the senate, and evincing,, 
by his votes and opinions, his decided hostility to constructive au- 
thority, and to innovations on the established principles of repub- 
lican government. 

He died at Washington, when attending to his duties as vice- 
president, and was interred in that city, where a monument wa? 
erected by the filial piety of his children, with this inscription, 
written by his nephew : 

'•To the memory of George Clinton. He was born in the state 
of New- York, on the 26th of July, 1739, and died in the city of 
Washington, on the 20th of April, 1812, in the 73d year of his age. 
"He was a soldier and a statesman of the revolution. Eminent 
in council, and distinguished in war, he filled, with unexampled 
usefulness, purity, and ability, among many other offices, those of 
governor in his native state, and vice-president of the United States. 
While he lived, his virtue, wisdom, and valor, were the pride, the 
ornament, and security of his country ; and when he died, he left an 
illustrious example of a well spent life, worthy of all imitation." 



230 WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 

WILLIAM DAVIDSON, 
Brigadier-Genebal in the American Army. 
William Davidson, lieutenant-colonel commandant in the 
North Carolina line, and brigadier-general in the militia of that 
state, was the youngest son of George Davidson, who removed 
with his family from Lancaster county, in Pennsylvania, in the 
year 1750, to Rowan county, in North Carolina. William was 
born in the year 1746, and was educated in a plain country man- 
ner, at an academy in Charlotte, in the county of Mecklenburgli. 
Like most of the enterprising youth of America, Davidson 
repaired to the standard of his country, on the commencement of 
the revolutionary war, and was appointed a major in one of the 
first regiments formed by the government of North Carolina. In 
this character he marched with the North Carolina line, under 
brigadier-general Nash, to the main army in New-Jersey, where 
he served under the commander-in-chief, until the North Carolina 
line was detached, in November 1779, to reinforce the southern 
army, commanded by major-general Lincoln. Previous to this 
event, major Davidson was promoted to the command of a regi- 
ment, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel commandant. As he 
passed through North Carolina, Davidson obtained permission to 
visit his family, from which he had been absent nearly three years. 
The delay produced by this visit saved him from captivity, as he 
found Charleston so closely invested when he arrived in its 
neighborhood, as to prevent his re-junction with his regiment. 

Soon after the surrender of general Lincoln and his army, the 
loyalists of North Carolina, not doubting the complete success of 
the royal forces, began to embody themselves for the purpose of 
contributing their active aid in the field, to the subsequent oper- 
ations of the British general. They were numerous in the western 
parts of the state, and especially in the Highland settlement about 
Cross creek. Lieutenant-colonel Davidson put himself at the head 
of some of our militia, called out to quell the expected insurrec- 
tion. He proceeded with vigor in the execution of his trust; and 
in an engagement with a party of loyalists, near Calson's mill, he 
was severely wounded; the ball entered the umbilical region, and 
passed through his body near the kidneys. This confined him for 
eight weeks; when recovering, he instantly took the field, having 



WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 231 

been recently appointed brigadier-general by the government of 
North Carolina, in the place of brigadier-general Rutherford, taken 
at the battle of Camden. He exerted himself, in conjunction with 
general Sumner and colonel Davie, to interrupt the progress of 
lord Cornwallis in his advance towards Salisbury, and throughout 
that eventful period, gave unceasing evidences of his zeal and 
firmness, in upholding his falling country. 

After the victory obtained by Morgan at the Cowpens, Davidson 
was among the most active of his countrymen in assembling the 
militia of his district, to enable general Greene, who had joined 
the light corps under Morgan, to stop the progress of the advancing 
enemy, and was detached by general Greene, on the night of the 
last day of January, to guard the very ford selected by lord Corn- 
wallis for his passage of the Catawba river on the ne.xt morning. 
Davidson possessed himself of the post in the night, at the head 
of three hundred men, and having placed a picket near the shore, 
stationed the corps at some small distance from the ford. 

General Henry Lee, from whose memoirs of the war in the 
southern department of the United States, we copy the present 
sketch of general Davidson, gives the following account of the 
battle : — "A disposition was immediately made to dislodge David- 
son, which the British general O'Hara, with the guards, effected. 
Lieutenant-colonel Hall led with the light infantry, followed by 
the grenadiers. The current was rapid, the stream waist deep, 
and five hundred yards in width. The soldiers crossed in pla- 
toons, supporting each others' steps. When lieutenant-colonel 
Hall reached the river, he was descried by the American senti- 
nels, whose challenge and fire brought Davidson's corps into array. 
De'serted by his guide. Hall passed directly across, not knowing 
the landing place, which lay below him. This deviation from the 
common course, rendered it necessary for Davidson to incline to 
the right; but this manoeuvre, although promptly performed, was 
not effected until the light infantry had gained the shore. A fierce 
conflict ensued, which was well supported by Davidson and his 
inferior force. The militia at length yielded, and Davidson, while 
mounting his horse to direct the retreat, was killed. The corps 
dispersed, and sought safety in the woods. Our loss was small, 
excepting general Davidson, an active, zealous, and influential 



232 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 

officer. The British lieutenant-colonel Hall was also killed, with 
three of the light infantry, and thirty-six were wounded. Lord 
Cornwallis's horse was shot under him, and fell, as soon as he got 
on the shore. Leslie's horses were carried down the stream, and 
with difficulty saved; and O'Hara's tumbled over with him into 
the water." 

The loss of brigadier-general Davidson would have been felt 
in any stage of the war. It was particularly detrimental in its 
effoct at this period, as he was the chief instrument relied upon 
by general Greene for the assemblage of the militia; an event all- 
important at this crisis, and anxiously desired by the American 
general. The ball passed through his breast, and he instantly 
fell dead. This promising soldier was thus lost to his country in 
the meridian of life, and at a moment when his services would 
have been highly beneficial to her. He was a man of popular 
manners, pleasing address, active, and indefatigable. Enamored 
with the profession of arms, and devoted to the great cause for 
which he fought, his future usefulness may be inferred from his 
former conduct. 

The congress of the United States, in gratitude for his services, 
and in commemoration of their sense of his worth, passed the fol- 
lowing resolution: ^^Resolved, That the governor and council of 
the state of North Carolina be desired to erect a monument, at the 
expense of the United States, not exceeding the value of five hun- 
dred dollars, to the memory of the late brigadier-general Davidson, 
who commanded the militia of the district of Salisbury, in the state 
of North Carolina, and was killed on the first day of February 
last, fighting gallantly in defence of the liberty and independence 
of these states." 



CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN, 
Brigadier-General and Lieut. Governor of South Carolina. 

This venerable patriot of the revolution was born in Charleston, 
about the year 1724. He was sent to England by his father, 
while a youth, where he was educated. At the ag^ of sixteen he 
returned to Carolina, and finished his education in the counting- 
house of Mr. Lawrence, of Philadelphia. 

General Gadsden had naturally a strong love for independence. 



CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 233 

He was born a republican. Under a well ordered government 
he was a good subject, but could not brook the encroachments of 
any man, or body of men, to entrench on his rights. 

"As early as 1766," says judge Johnson, "there was at least 
one man in South Carolina who foresaw and foretold the A'iews of 
the British government, and explicitly urged his adherents to the 
resolution to resist even to death. General Gadsden, it is well 
known, always favored the most decisive and energetic measures. 
He thought it folly to temporize, and insisted that cordial reconcil- 
iation, on honorable terms, was impossible. When the news of 
the repeal of the stamp act arrived, and the \yhole community was 
in ecstacy at the event, he, on the contrary, received it with indig- 
nation, and privately convening a party of his friends, he haran- 
gued them at considerable length on the folly of relaxing their op- 
position and vigilance, or indulging the fallacious hope that Great 
Britain would relinquish her designs or pretensions. He drev/ 
their attention to the preamble of the act, and forcibly pressed upon 
them the absurdity of rejoicing at an act that still asserted and main- 
tained the absolute dominion over thenii And then reviewing all 
the chances of succeeding in a struggle to break the fetters, when 
ai;ain imposed upon them, he pressed them to prepare their minds 
for the event. The address was received with silent but profound 
devotion; and with linked hands, the whole party pledged them- 
selves to resist; a pledge that was faithfully redeemed when the 
hour of trial arrived.*' 

"In June, 1775, when the provincial congress determined to 
raise troops, Gadsden, though absent on public duty at Philadel- 
phia, was, without his consent or knowledge, elected colonel of the 
first regiment. For personal courage he was inferior to no man. 
In knowledge of the military art, he had several equals, and some 
superiors, but from the great confidence reposed in his patriotism, 
and the popularity of his name, he was put at the head of the new 
military establishment. He left congress, and repaired to the 
camp in Carolina, declaring that "wherever his country placed him, 
whether in the civil or military department; and if in the latter, 
whether as corporal or colonel, he would cheerfully serve to the 
utmost of his ability.'' 
In the next year he was promoted by congress to the rank of 
21 



234 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 

brigadier-general. He commanded at Fort Johnson, when the fort 
on Sullivan's Island was attacked,- and he was prepared to receive 
the enemy in their progress to Charleston. The repulse of the 
British prevented his coming into action. Their retreat relieved 
South Carolina from the pressure of war for two years. In this 
period, Gadsden resigned his military command, but continued to 
serve in the assembly and the privy council, and was very active 
in preparing for and endeavoring to repel the successive invasions 
of the state by the British in 1779 and 1780. He was the friend 
of every vigorous measure, and always ready to undertake the 
most laborious duties, and to put himself in the front of danger. 

When Charleston surrendered by capitulation, he was lieuten- 
ant-governor, and paroled as such, and honorably kept his engage- 
ment. For the three months which followed, he was undisturbed ; 
but on the defeat of Gates, in August, 17S0, the British resolved 
that he and several others, who discovered no disposition to return 
to the condition of British subjects, should be sent out of the coun- 
try. He was accordingly taken in his own house by a file of sol- 
diers, and put on board a vessel in the harbor. He knew not why 
he was taken up, nor what was intended to be done with him, but 
supposed it was introductory to a trial for treason or rebellion, as 
the British gave out that the country was completely conquered. 

He was soon joined by twenty-eight compatriots, who were also 
taken up on the same day. 

He drew from his pocket half a dollar, and turning to his asso- 
ciates with a cheerful countenance, assured them that was all the 
money he had at his command. The conquerors sent him and his 
companions to St. Augustine, then a British garrison. 

On their landing, limits of some extent were offered to them, on 
condition of their renewing the parole they had given in Charles- 
ton, "to do nothing injurious to the British interest." When this 
was tendered to general Gadsden, he replied, "That he had already 
given one, and honorably observed it ; that, in violation of his rights 
as a prisoner under capitulation, he had been sent from Charles- 
ton, and that, therefore, he saw no use in giving a second parole." 
The commanding officer replied, "He would enter into no argu- 
ments, butdemanded an explicit answer whether he would or would 
not renew his parole." General Gadsden answered ^vith that high- 



CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN, 235 

minded republican spirit which misfortunes could not keep down, 
"I will not. In God I put my trust, and fear no consequences." 
"Think belter of it, sir," said the officer ; "a second refusal will fix 
your destiny; a dungeon will be your future habitation." "Pre- 
pare it then," said the inflexible patriot, "I will give no parole, so 
help me God.'"' He was instantly hurried off to the castle, and there 
confined for ten months in a small room, and in a state of complete 
separation from his fellow-prisoners, and in total ignorance of the 
advantages gained by his countrymen, but with the most ample 
details of their defeats, and particularly with the sequestration of 
his estate with that of the other Carolina rebels. 

After Andre's arrest, colonel Glazier, the governor of the castle, 
sent to advise general Gadsden to prepare himself for the worst, 
intimating that as general Washington had been assured of retal- 
itation if Andre was executed, it was not unlikely that he would 
be the person selected. To this message he magnanimously re- 
plied, "That he was always prepared to die for his country, and 
that he would rather ascend the scaffold than purchase with his 
life the dishonor of his country." 

In the course of 1781, the victories of general Greene procured 
an equivalent for the release of all the prisoners belonging to 
South Carolina. Mr. Gadsden was discharged from close con- 
finement, and rejoined his fellow-prisoners. The reciprocal con- 
gratulations on the exchange of circumstances, and on seeing each 
other after ten months separation, though in the same garrison, 
may be more easily conceived than expressed. They were all 
conveyed by water from St. Augustine to Philadelphia, and there 
delivered. On their arrival they were informed, for the first time, 
of the happy turn American affairs had taken subsequent to Gates' 
defeat.^ General Gadsden hastened back to Carolina, to aid in re- 
covering it from the British. He was elected a member of the as- 
sembly v>hich met at Jacksonburgh in 17S2. 

General Gadsden continued in the country throughout the year 
1782, serving as one of the governor's council. On the 14th of 
December, 1782, he, with the American army and citizens, made 
their triumphant entry into Charleston in the rear of the evacua- 
ting British. In the first moment of his return, after an absence 
of more than two years, he had the pleasure of seeing the British 



236 DANIEL MORGAN. 

fleet, upward of three hundred sail, in the act of departing from 
the port, and the capital, as well as the country, restored to its 
proper owners. Mr. Gadsden henceforward devoted himself to 
private pursuits, but occasionally served in the assembly, and with 
unspeakable delight in the two state conventions ; the one for the 
ratification of the national constitution in 1788, and the other for 
revising the state constitution in 1790. 

He survived his 81st year, generally enjoying good health, and 
at last died, more from the consequences of an accidental fall than 
the weight of disease, or decays of nature. 

His opinions of lawyers were not favorable. He considered 
their pleadings as generally tending to obscure what was plain, and 
to make difficulties where there were none; and much more sub- 
servient to render their trade lucrative than to advance justice. 
He adhered to that clause of Mr. Locke's fundamental constitu- 
tion, which makes it "a base and vile thing to plead for money or 
reward;" and wished that the lawyers, when necessary to justice, 
should be provided with salaries at the public expense, like the 
judges, that they might be saved from the shame of hiring their 
tongues to the first who offered or gave the largest fee. Of phy- 
sicians he thought very little. He considered temperance and ex- 
ercise superior to all their prescriptions, and that in most cases 
they rendered them altogether unnecessary. In many things he 
was particular. His passions were strong, and required all hi? 
religion and philosophy to curl) them. His patrioiism was both 
disinterested and ardent. He declined all offices of profit, and 
through life refused to take the compensations annexed by law to 
such offices of trust as were conferred on him. His character was 
impressed with the hardihood of antiquity ; and he possessed an 
erect, firm, intrepid mind, which was well calculated for buffeting 
with revolutionary storms. — Ramsay's History of S. Carolina. 



DANIEL MORGAN, 
Brigadier-General IN the American Army. 
General Morgan was the creator of his own fortune. Bora 
of poor, though honest parents, he enjoyed none of the advanta- 
ges which result from wealth and early education. But his was 
a spirit that would not tamely yield to difficulties. 



DANIEI. MORGAN. 237 

He was born in New- Jersey, where, from his poverty and low 
condition, he had been a day-laborer. To early education and 
breeding, therefore, he owed nothing. But for this deficiency, his 
native sagacity and sound judgment, and his intercourse with the 
best society, made much amends in after life. 

"Enterprising in his disposition, even now he removed to Vir- 
ginia in 1755, with a hope and expectation of improving his for- 
tune. Here he continued, at first, his original business of day -la- 
bor; but exchanged it afterward for the employment of a wagoner. 
"His military novitiate he served in the campaign under the un- 
fortunate Braddock. The rank he bore is not precisely known. 
It must, however, have been humble; for, in consequence of im- 
puted contumely towards a British officer, he was brought to the 
halbert, and received the inhuman punishment of five hundred 
lashes ; or, according to his own statement,, of four hundred and 
ninety-nine; for he always asserted that the drummer charged 
\vith the execution of the sentence, miscounted, and jocularly ad- 
ded, 'That George the Third was still indebted to him one lash.' 
To the honor of Morgan, he never practically remembered this 
savage treatment during the revolutionary war. Towards the 
British officers whom the fortune of battle placed within his power, 
his conduct was humane, mild and gentlemanly. 

"After his return from this campaign, so inordinately was he ad- 
dicted to quarrels and boxing matches, that the village of Berrys- 
town, in the county of Frederick, which constituted the chief the- 
atre of his pugilistic exploits, received, from this circumstance, 
the name of Battletown. 

"In these combats, although frequently overmatched in personal 
strength, he manifested the same unyielding spirit which charac- 
terized him afterward in his military career. When worsted by 
his antagonist, he would pause for a time, to recruit his strength, 
and then return to the contest, again and again, until he rarely 
failed to prove victorious. 

"Equally marked was his invincibility of spirit in maturer age, 

when raised, by fortune and his own merit, to a higher and more 

honorable field of action. Defeat in battle he rarely experienced; 

but when he did, his retreat was sullen, stern, and dangerous. 

"The commencement of the American revolution found Mr. 

21* 



238 DANIEL MORGAN. 

Morgan married and cultivating a farm, which, by industry and 
economy, he had been enabled to purchase, in the county of Fred- 
erick. 

^Placed at the head of a rifle company, raised in his neighbor- 
liood in 1775, he marched immediately to the American head- 
quarters in Cambridge, near Boston. 

By order of the commander-in-chief, he soon afterward joined 
in the expedition against Quebec, and was made prisoner in the 
attempt on that fortress, where Arnold was wounded, and Mont- 
gomery fell. During the assault, his daring valor and persever- 
ing gallantry attracted the notice and admiration of the enemy. 

"The assailing column to which he belonged, was led by major 
Arnold. When that othcer was wounded, and carried from the 
ground, Morgan threw himself into the lead, and, rushing forward, 
passed the first and second barriers. For a moment. Victory ap- 
peared certain. But the fall of Montgomery closing the prospect, 
the assailants were repulsed, and the enterprise abandoned. Dur- 
ing his captivity, captain Morgan was treated with great kindness, 
and not a little distinction. He was repeatedly visited in confine- 
ment by a British officer of rank, who at length made an attempt 
on his patriotism and virtue, by offering him the commission and 
emoluments of colonel in the British army, on condition that he 
would desert the American and join the royal standard. 

"Morgan rejected the proposal with scorn, and requested the 
courtly and corrupt negotiator 'never again to insult him in his 
misfortunes by an oflfer which plainly implied that he thought him 
a villain.' The officer withdrew, and did not again recur to the 
subject. 

"On being exchanged, Morgan immediately re-joined the Amer- 
ican army, and received, by the recommendation of general Wash- 
ington, the command of a regiment. 

"In the year 1777, he was placed at the head of a select rifle 
corps, with which, in various instances, he acted on the enemy 
with terrible effect. His troops were considered the most danger- 
ous in the American service. To confront them in the field was 
almost certain death to the British officers. 

"On the occasion of the capture of Burgoyne, the exertions and 
services of colonel Morgan and his riflemen were beyond all 



DANIEL MORGAN. 239 

praise. Much of the glory of the achievement belonged to them. 
Yet so gross was the injustice of general Gates, that he did not 
even mention them in his official despatches. His reason for -this 
was secret and dishonorable. Shortly after the surrender of Bur- 
goyne, general Gates took occasion to hold with Morgan a private 
conversation. In the course of this he told him confidentially, 
that the main army was exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct 
of general Washington ; that the reputation of the commander-in- 
chief was rapidly declining; and that several officers of great 
worth threatened to resign, unless a change was produced in that 
department. 

"Colonel Morgan fathoming in an instant the views of his com- 
manding officer, sternly, and with honest indignation, replied, 
"Sir, I have one favor to ask. Never again mention to me this 
hateful subject; under no other man but general Washington, as' 
commander-in-chief, will I ever serve.' From that moment ceased 
the intimacy that had previously subsisted between him and 
general Gates. 

"A few daj's afterward the general gave a dinner to the princi- 
pal officers of the British, and some of those of the American ar- 
my. Morgan was not invited. In the course of the evening, that 
officer found it necessary to call on general Gates, on official busi- 
ness. Being introduced into the dining room, he spoke to the gen- 
eral, received his orders, and immediately withdrew, his name un- 
announced. Perceiving, from his dress, that he was of high rank, 
the British officers inquired his name. Being told that it was 
colonel Morgan, commanding the rifle corps, they rose from the 
table, followed him into the yard, and introduced themselves to 
him, with many complimentary and flattering expressions, declar- 
ing that, on the day of action, they had very severely felt him in 
the field. 

"In 1780, having obtained leave of absence from the army on 
account of the shattered condition of his health, he retired to his 
estate in the county of .Frederick, and remained tTiere until the 
appointment of general Gates to the command of the southern ar- 
my. Being waited on by the latter, and requested to accompany 
him, he reminded him, in expressions marked by resentment, of 
the unworthy treatment he had formerly experienced from him, in 



240 DANIEL MORGAN. 

return for the important services which, he did not hesitate to as- 
sert, he had rendered him in his operations against the army of 
general Burgoyne. Having received no acknowledgement, nor 
even civility, for aiding to decorate him with laurels in the north, 
he frankly declared that there were no considerations, except of a 
public nature, that could induce him to co-operate in his campaigns 
to the south. 'Motives of public good might influence himj be- 
cause his country had a claim on him, in any quarter where he 
could promote her interest ; but personal attachment must not be 
expected to exist where he had experienced nothing but neglect, 
and injustice.' The two officers parted, mutually dissatisfied ; the 
one on account of past treatment; the other, of the recent inter- 
view. 

"In the course of a few weeks afterward, congress having pro- 
moted colonel Morgan to the rank of brigadier-general by brevet,, 
with a view to avail themselves of his services in the south, he 
proceeded without delay to join the army of general Gates. But 
he was prevented from serving any length of time under that offi- 
cer, by his defeat near Camden, before his arrival^ and his being 
soon afterward superseded in command by general Greene. 

"Soon after taking command of the southern army, general 
Greene despatched general Morgan with four hundred continen- 
tals under colonel Howard, colonel Washington's corps of dragoons,, 
and a few militia, amounting in all to about six hundred, to take 
position on the left of the British army, then lying at Winnsbo- 
rough, under lord Cornwallis, while he took post about seventy 
miles to his right. This judicious disposition excited his lordship's 
apprehensions for the safety of Ninety-Six and Augusta, British 
posts, which he considered as menaced by the movements of Mor- 
gan. 

"Colonel Tarleton, with a strong detachment, amounting, in 
horse and foot, to near a thousand men, was immediately des- 
patched by Cornwallis to the protection of Ninety-Six, with or- 
ders to bring general Morgan, if possible, to battle. To the ardent 
temper and chivalrous disposition of the British colonel, this direc- 
tion was perfectly congenial. Greatly superior in numbers, he 
advanced on Morgan with a menacing aspect, and compelled him, 
at first, to fall back rapidly. But the retreat cf the American 



DAXIEL MORGAN. 241 

commander was not long continued. Irritated by pursuit, rein- 
forced by a body of militia, and reposing great confidence in the 
spirit and firmness of his regular troops, he halted at the Cowpens, 
and determined to gratify his adversary in his eagerness for com- 
bat. This was on the night of the 10th of January, 1781. Ear- 
ly in the morning of the succeeding day, Tarleton, being apprised 
of the situation of Morgan, pressed towards him with a redoubled 
rapidity, lest, by renewing his retreat, he should again elude him. 
"But Morgan now had other thoughts than those of flight. Al- 
ready had he, for several days, been at war with himself in rela- 
tion to his conduct. Glorying in action, his spirit recoiled frora 
the humiliation of retreat, and his resentment was roused by the 
insolence of pursuit. This mental conflict becoming more intol- 
erable to him than disaster or death, his courage triumphed, per- 
haps, over his prudence, and he resolved on putting every thing 
to the hazard of the sword. 

'•By mihtary men who have studied the subject, his disposition 
lor battle is said to have been masterly. Two light parties of mi- 
litia were advanced in front, with orders to feel the enemy as they 
approached ; and preserving a desultory, well-aimed fire, as they 
fell back to the front line, to range with it, and renew the conflict. 
The main body of the militia composed this line, with general 
Pickens at its head. At a suitable distance in the rear of the first 
line, a second was stationed, composed of the continental infantry 
and two companies of Virginia militia, commanded by colonel How-^ 
ard. Washington's cavalry, reinforced with a company of moun- 
ted militia, armed with sabres, was held in reserve, 

''Posting himself then in the line of the regulars, he waited in 
silence the advance of the enemy. 

"Tarleton coming in sight, hastily formed his disposition for bat- 
tle, and commenced the assault. Of this conflict, the following 
picture is from the pen of general Lee : 

"The American light parties quickly yielded, fell back, and ar- 
rayed with Pickens. The enemy shouting, rushed forward upon 
the front line, which retained its station, and poured in a close fire; 
but continuing to advance with the bayonet on our militia, they re- _ 
tired, and gained with haste the second line. Here, with part of 
the corps, Pickens took post on Howard's right, and the rest fled 



} 



242 DANIEL MORGAN. 

to their horses, probably with orders to remove them to a further 
distance. Tarleton pushed forward, and was received by his ad- 
versary v/ith unshaken firmness. The contest became obstinate; 
and each party, animated by the example of its leader, nobly con- 
tended for victory. Our line maintained itself so firmly as to 
oblige the enemy to order up his reserve. The advance of M' Ar- 
thur reanimated the British line, which again moved forward, and 
outstretching our front, endangeredcolonel Howard's right. This 
officer instantly took measures to defend his flank, by directing his 
right company to change its front; but mistaking this order, the 
company fell back; upon which the line began to retire, and gene- 
ral Morgan directed it to retreat to the cavalry. This manceuvre 
being performed with precision, our flank became relieved, and 
the new position was assumed with promptitude. Considering 
this retrograde movement the precursor of flight, the British line 
rushed on with impetuosity and disorder ; but as it drew near, How- 
ard faced about, and gave it a close and murderous fire. Stunned 
by this unexpected shock, the most advanced of the enemy re- 
coiled in confusion. Howard seized the happy moment, and fol- 
lowed his advantage with the bayonet. This decisive step gave 
us the day. The reserve having been brought near the line, sha- 
red in the destruction of our fire, and presented no rallying poiiit 
to the fugitives. A part of the enemy's cavalry having gained 
our rear, fell on that portion of the militia who had retired to their 
horses. Washington struck at them with his dragoons, and drove 
them before him. Thus, by a simultaneous effort, the infantr}"" 
and cavalry of the enemy were routed. Morgan pressed home 
his success, and the pursuit became vigorous and general.' 

"In this decisive battle we lest about seventy men, of whom 
twelve only were killed. The British infantry, with the exception 
of the baggage guard, were nearly all killed or taken. One hun- 
dred, including ten ofiicers, were killed; twenty-three officers and 
five hundred privates were taken. The artillery, eight hundred 
muskets, two standards, thirty-five baggage wagons, and one hun- 
dred dragoon horses, fell into our possession." In this battle, sa 
glorious to the American arms, Tarleton had every advantage in 
point of ground, cavalry and numbers, aided by two pieces of 
tirtillery. 



JOHN STARK. 243 

Soon after this brilliant exploit, frequent attacks of rheumatism 
compelled general Morgan to retire from the army, and he returned 
to his seat in Frederick, Virginia, where he continued in retire- 
ment until the insurrection in the western part of Pennsylvania, 
in 1794, when he was detached by the executive of Virginia, at 
the head of the militia quota of that state, to suppress it. This 
done, he returned into the bosom of his family, where he remained 
until death closed his earthly, career, in 1799. 

"There existed in the character of general Morgan a singular 
contradiction, which is worthy of notice. Although in battle no 
man was ever more prodigal of the exposure of his person to dan- 
ger, or manifested a more deliberate disregard for death; yet so 
strong was his love of life at other times, that he has been fre- 
quently heard to declare, 'he would agree to pass half his time as 
a galley-slave, rather than quit this world for another.' 

"The following outline of his person and character is from the 
pen of a military friend, who knew him intimately: 'Brigadier- 
general Morgan was stout and active, six feet in height, strong, 
not too much encumbered with flesh, and was exactly fitted for 
the toils and pomp of war. His mind was discriminating and solid, 
but not comprehensive and combining: his manners plain and de- 
corous, neither insinuating nor repulsive; his conversation grave, 
sententious and considerate, unadorned and uncaptivating. He 
reflected deeply, spoke little, and executed with keen persever- 
ance whatever he undertook. He was indulgent in his military 
command, preferring always the affections of his troops, to that 
dread and awe which surrounded the rigid disciplinarian.' 

''A considerable time before his death, when the pressure of 
infirmity began to be heavy, he became seriously concerned g,bout 
his future welfare. From that period, his chief solace lay in the 
study of the scriptures, and in devotional exercises. He died in 
the belief of the truths of Christianity, and in full communion 
with the Presbyterian church." — Life of Greene. 



JOHN STARK, 
Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
General Stark was a native of New-Hampshire, and was born 
in Londonderry, August 17th, 1728. From his early youth he 



244 JOHN STARK. 

had been accustomed to the alarm of war, having lived in that 
part of the country which was continually subject to the incursions 
of the savages. While a child, he was captured by them, and 
adopted as one of their own; but after a few years was restored. 

Arrived at manhood, his manners were plain, honest, and se- 
vere; excellen' ly calculated for the benefit of society in the private 
walks of life; and as a courageous and heroic soldier, he is enti- 
tled to a high rank among those who have been crowned with 
unfading laurels, and to whom a large share of glory is justly due. 
He was captain of a company of rangers in the provincial service 
during the French war, in 1755. 

From the commencement of the difficulties with the mother 
country, until the closing scene of the revolution, our country found 
in general Stark, one of her most resolute, independent, and per- 
severing defenders. The first call of his country found him ready. 
When the report of Lexington battle reached him, he was engaged 
at Avork in his saw-mill. Fired with indignation and a martial 
spirit, he immediately seized his musket, and with a band of heroes 
proceeded to Cambridge. The morning after his arrival, he re- 
ceived a colonel's commission, and availing himself of his own 
popularity, and the enthusiasm of the day, in two hours he enlisted 
eight hundred men. On the memorable 17th of June, at Breed's 
Hill, colonel Stark, at the head of his backwoodsmen of New- 
Hampshire, poured on the enemy that deadly fire, from a sure 
aim, which effected such remarkable destruction in their ranks, 
and compelled them twice to retreat. During the whole of this 
dreadful conflict, colonel Stark evinced that consummate bravery 
and intrepid zeal, which entitle his name to lasting remembrance. 
His spirit pervaded his native state, and excited them to the most 
patriotic efforts. The British general Burgoyne in one of his letters 
observes, that "the New-Hampshire grants, alniost unknown in the 
last war, now abound in the most active and most rebellious race 
on the continent, and hang like a gathering storm upon my left.'' 
Distinct from his efforts in rallying the energies of his native 
state, he obtahied great credit in the active operations of the field. 
At that gloomy period of the revolution, the retreat of Washington 
through New-Jersey, in 1776, when the saviour of our country, 
apparently 43eserted of heaven and by his country, with the few 



JOHN STARK. 245 

gallant spirits who gathered the closer around him in that dark 
hour, precipitately fled before an imperious and victorious enemy; 
St was on this occasion that the persevering valor of Stark enrolled 
him among the fii'm and resolute defenders of their country ; and, 
with them, entitles him to her unceasing gratitude. 

But as he fearlessly shared with Washington the dark and 
gloomy night of defeat, so also he participated with him in the joy 
of a bright morning of victory and hope. In the successful enter- 
prise against Trenton, Stark, then a colonel, acted a conspicuous 
part, and covered himself with glory. General Wilkinson, in his 
memoirs, says, "I must not withhold due praise from the dauntless 
Stark, who dealt death wherever he found resistance, and broke 
down all opposition before him." 

Soon after this affair, colonel Stark, from some supposed injus- 
tice towards him on the part of congress, quitted the continental 
service, and returned to New-Hampshire. 

When he was urged by the government of New-Hampshire to 
take the command of their militia, he refused, unless he should be 
at liberty to serve, or not, under a continental oflicer, as he should 
judge proper. It was not a time for debate, and it was known that 
the militia would follow wherever Stark would lead. The assem- 
bly therefore vested him with a separate command, and gave him 
orders to repair to Charlestown, on Connecticut river; and to act 
in conjunction with the troops of any of the states, or of the United 
States, or separately, as it should appear expedient to him, for the 
protection of the people and the annoyance of the enemy. 

Agreeably to his orders, Stark proceeded, in a few d!ays» co 
Charlestown; his men very readily followed, and, as fast as they 
arrived, he sent them forward to join the troops of Vermont under 
colonel Warner, who had taken his station at Manchester, At 
that place he joined Warner, with about eight hundred men from 
New-Hampshire, and found another body of men from Vermont, 
-who put themselves under his command; and he was at the head 
of fourteen hundred men. Most of them had been in the two for- 
mer campaigns, and well officered; and were in every respect, a 
body of very good troops. Schuyler repeatedly urged Stark to 
join the troops under his command, but he declined complying. — 
He was led to this conduct not only by the reasons which have 
22 



246 JOHN STARK. 

been mentioned, but by a difference of opinion as to the best method 
of opposing Burgoyne. Schuyler wished to collect all the Amer- 
ican troops in the front, to prevent Burgoyne from marching on to 
Albany. Stark was of opinion that the surest way to check Bur- 
goyne, was to have a body of men on his rear, ready to fall upon 
him in that quarter, whenever a favorable opportunity should pre- 
sent. The New-England militia had not formed a high opinion of 
Schuyler as a general ; and Stark meant to keep himself in a situ- 
ation in which he might embrace any favorable opportunity for 
action, either in conjunction with him, or otherwise; and with that 
view intended to hang on the rear of the British troops, and era- 
brace the first opportunity which should present, to make an attack 
upon that quarter. But Stark assured Schuyler, that he would 
join any measure necessary to promote the public good, but wished 
to avoid any thing that was not consistent with his own honor ; and 
if it was thought necessary, he would march to his camp. He 
wrote particularly, that he would lay aside all private resentment, 
when it appeared in opposition to the public good. But in the 
midst of these protestations he was watching for an opportunity to 
discover his courage and patriotism, by falling upon some part of 
Burgoyne's army. 

While the American army was thus assuming a more respecta- 
ble appearance, general Burgoyne was making very slow advances 
towards Albany. From the 28th of July, to the 15th of August, 
the British army was continually employed in bringing forsvard 
batteaux, provisions, and ammunition, from Fort George to 
the first navigable part of Hudson's river, a distance of not more 
than eighteen miles. The labor was excessive; the Europeans 
were but little acquainted with the methods of performing it toad- 
vantage, anfl the effect was in no degree equivalent to the expense 
of labor and time. With all the efforts that Burgoyne could make, 
encumbered with his artillery and baggage, his labors were inade- 
quate to the purpose of supplying the army with provisions for its 
daily consumption, and the establishment of the necessary maga- 
zines. And after his utmost exertions for fifteen days, there were 
not above four days' provisions in the store, nor above ten batteaux 
in Hudson's river. 

Iij such circumstances, the British general found that it would 



JOHJV STARK. 1^7 

be impossible to procure sufficient supplies of provisions by the 
way of Fort George, and determined to replenish his own maga- 
zines at the expense of those of the Americans. Having received 
information that a large quantity of stores were laid up at Ben- 
nington, and guarded only by the militia, he formed the design of 
surprising that place; and was made to believe that as soon as a 
detachment of the royal army should appear in that quarter, it 
would receive effectual assistance from a large body of loyalists, 
Avho only waited for the appearance of a support, and would in that 
event come forward and aid the royal cause. Full of these ex- 
pectations, he detached colonel Baum, a German officer, with a 
select body of troops, to surprise the place. His force consisted 
of about five hundred regular troops, some Canadians, and more 
than one hundred Indians, with two light pieces of artillery. To 
facilitate their operations, and to be ready to take advantage of the 
success of the detachment, the royal army moved along the east 
bank of Fludson's river, and encamped nearly opposite to Saratoga ; 
having, at the same time, thrown a bridge of rafts over the river, 
by which the army passed to that place. With a view to support 
Baum, if it should be found necessary, lieutenant-colonel Brey- 
man's corps, consisting of the Brunswick grenadiers, infantry, and 
chasseurs, were posted at Battenkill. 

General Stark having received information that a party of In- 
dians were at Cambridge, sent lieutenant-oulonel Greg, on August 
the 13th, with a party of two hundred men, to stop their progress. 
Toward night he was informed by express, that a large body of 
regulars was in the rear of the Indians, and advancing toward 
Bennington. On this intelligence. Stark drew together his brigade, 
and the militia that were at hand, and sent on to Manchester, to 
colonel Warner, to bring on his regiment ; he sent expresses at the 
same time to the neighboring militia, to join him with the utmost 
speed. On the morning of the 14th, he marched with his troops, 
and at the distance of seven miles he met Greg on the retreat, and 
the enemy within a mile of him. Stark drew up his troops in order 
of battle ; but the enemy, coming in sight, halted upon a very ad- 
vantageous piece of ground. Baum perceived the Americans 
were too strong to be attacked by his present force, and sent an 
express to Burgoyne, with an account of his situation, and to have 



248 JOHN STARK. # 

Breyman march immediately to support him. In the meantime, 
small parties of the Americans kept up a skirmish with the enemy, 
killed and wounded thirty of them, with two of their Indian chiefs, 
without any loss to themselves. The ground the Americans had 
taken was unfavorable for a general action, and Stark retreated 
about a mile and encamped. A council of war was held, and it 
was agreed to send two detachments upon the enemy's rear, while 
the rest of the troops should make an attack upon their front. 
The next day the weather was rainy, and though it prevented a 
general action, there were frequent skirmishes in small partie?, 
which proved favorable and encouraging to the Americans. 

On August the 16th, in the morning, Stark was joined by colo- 
nel Symonds and a body of militia from Berkshire, and proceeded 
to attack the enemy, agreeably to the plan which had been con- 
certed. Colonel Baum in the mean time, had entrenched on ars 
advantageous piece of ground near St. Koick's mills, on a branch 
of Hoosic river; and rendered his post as strong as his circumstan- 
ces and situation would admit. Colonel Nichols was detached 
with two hundred men to the rear of his left, colonel Herrick with 
three hundred men to the rear of his right; both M'ere to join, and 
then make the attack. Colonels Hubbard and Stickney, with two 
hundred men, were ordered on the right, and one hundred were 
advanced towards the front, to draw the attention of the enemy 
that way. About three o'clock in the afternoon, the troops had 
taken their station, and were ready to commence the action. While 
Nichols and Herrick were bringing their troops together, the In- 
dians were alarmed at the prospect, and pushed off between the 
two corps ; but received a fire as they were passing, by which three 
of them were killed and two wounded. Nichols then began the at- 
tack, and was followed by all the other divisions : those in the front 
immediately advanced, and in a few minutes the attack became 
general. It lasted about two hours, and was like one continued 
peal of thunder. Baum made a brave defence; and the German 
dragoons, after they had expended their ammunition, led by their 
colonel, charged with their swords, but they were soon overpow- 
ered. Their works were carried on all sides, their two pieces of 
cannon were taken, colonel Baum was himself mortally wounded 
and taken prisoner, and all his men, except a few who had escaped 



JOHN STARK. 249 

into the woods, were either killed or taken prisoners. Having 
completed the business by taking the whole party, the militia be- 
gan to disperse and look for plunder. . But in a few minutes 
Stark received information that a large reinforcement was on their 
march, and within two miles of him. Fortunately at that moment 
colonel Warner came up with his regiment from Manchester. This 
brave and experienced officer commanded a regiment of continen- 
tal troops, which had been raised in Vermont. Mortified that he 
had not been in the former engagement, he instantly led on his 
men against Breyman, and began the second engagement. Stark 
collected the militia as soon as possible, and pushed on to his as- 
sistance. The action became general, and the battle continued 
obstinate on both sides till sunset, when the Germans were forced 
to give way, and were pursued till dark. They left their two field- 
pieces behind, and a considerable number were made prisoners. 
They retreated in the best manner they could, improving the ad- 
vantages of the evening and night, to which alone their escape 
was ascribed. 

In these actions the Americans took four brass field-pieces, 
twelve brass drums, two hundi'ed and fifty dragoon swords, four 
ammunition wagons, and about seven hundred prisoners, with their 
arms and accoutrements. Two hundred and seven men were 
found dead upon the spot ; the numbers of wounded jjvere unknown. 
The loss of the Americans was but small ; thirty were slain, and 
about forty were wounded. Stark was not a little pleased at hav- 
ing so fair an opportunity to vindicate his own conduct. He had 
now shown that no neglect from congress, had made him disaffec- 
ted to the American cause, and that he had rendered a much more 
important service than he could have done by joining Schuyler, 
and remaining inactive in his camp. Congress embraced the op- 
portunity to assign to him his rank; and though he had not given 
to them any account of his victory, or wrote to them at all upon 
the subject, on October the fourth, they resolved, "That the thanks 
of congress be presented to general Stark, of the New-Hampshire 
militia, and the officers and troops under his command, for their 
brave and successful attack upon, and signal victory over the ene- 
my, in their lines at Bennington : and that brigadier Stark be ap- 
pointed a brigadier-general in the army of the United States." — • 
22* 



250 JOHN STARK. ^ 

And never were thanks more deserved, or more wisely given to 
a military officer. — Williams' Vermont. 

"In his official account of the affair, general Stark thus writes: 
'It lasted two hours, the hottest I ever saw in my life; it represen- 
ted one continued clap of thunder; however, the enemy were 
obliged to give way, and leave their field-pieces and all their bag- 
gage behind them ; they were all environed within two breast-works 
with artillery; but our martial courage proved too strong for them. 
I then gave orders to rally again in order to secure the victory ; 
but in a few minutes was informed, that there was a large reinforce- 
ment on their march, within two miles. Colonel Warner's regi- 
ment luckily coming up at the moment, renewed the attack with 
fresh vigor. I pushed forward as many of the men as I could to 
their assistance ; the battle continued obstinate on both sides until 
sunset; the enemy was obliged to retreat; we pursued them till 
dark, and had day lasted an hour longer, should have taken the 
whole body of them.' 

"On what small events does the popular humor and military suc- 
cess depend ! The capture of one thousand Germans by general 
Washington, at Trenton, had served to wake up, and save the 
whole continent. The exploit of Stark, at Bennington, operated 
with the same kind of influence, and produced a similar effect. 
This victory was the first event that had proved encouraging to the 
Americans in the northern department, since the death of general 
Montgomery. Misfortune had succeeded misfortune, and defeat 
had followed defeat from that period till now. The present in- 
stance was the first in which victory had quitted the roj al standard, 
or seemed even to be wavering. She was now found with the A- 
nierican arms, and the effect seemed, in fact, to be greater than 
the cause. It raised the spirit of the country to an uncommon 
degree of animation ; and by showing the militia what they could 
perform, rendered them willing and desirous to turn out and try 
what fortunes would await their exertions. It had a still greater 
effect on the royal army. Tne British generals were surprised 
to hear that an enemy whom they had contemplated with no other 
feelings than those of contempt, should all at once wake up, and 
discover much of the spirit of heroism. To advance upon the 
mouth of cannon, to attack fortified lines, to carry strong entrench- 



OTHO H. WILLIAMS. 251 

ments, were exploits which they supposed belonged exclusively 
to the armies of kings. To see a body of American militia, ill 
dressed, but little disciplined, without cannon, armed only with 
farmers' guns without bayonets, and who had been accustomed to 
flv at their approach ; that such men should force the entrench- 
ments, capture the cannon, kill and make prisoners of a large 
body of the royal army, was a matter of indignation, astonish- 
ment and surprise." — Williams^ Vermont. 

"General Stark volunteered his services under general Gates 
at Saratoga, and assisted in the council which stipulated the sur- 
render of general Burgoyne ; nor did he relinquish his valuable 
services till he could greet his native country as an independent 
empire. General Stark was of the middle stature, not formed by 
nature to exhibit an erect soldierly mien. His manners were 
frank and unassuming, but he manifested a peculiar sort of eccen- 
tricity and negligence, which precluded all display of personal 
dignity and seemed to place him among those of ordinary rank in 
life. His character as a private citizen, was unblemished, and 
he was ever held in respect. For the last few years of his life, 
he enjoyed a pecuniary bounty from the government. He lived 
to the advanced age of ninety-three years eight months and twen- 
four days, and died May 8th, 1823. — Thacker's Journal. 



OTHO H. WILLIAMS, 
Brigamer-Genekal in the American Arjiy. 

This gentleman was formed for eminence in any station. His 
talents were of a high order, and his attainments various and ex- 
tensive. Possessing a person of uncommon symmetry, and pe- 
culiarly distinguished by the elegance of his manners, he would 
have graced alike a court or a camp. 

"Rich in that species of military science which is acquired by 
experience, and a correct, systematic, and severe disciplinarian, 
general Greene confided to him the important trust of adjutant- 
general in the southern army. The services which, in this and 
other capacities, he rendered to that division of the American for- 
ces, in the course of their toilsome and perilous operations, wore 
beyond all praise. 

*'He was born in the county of Prince George, in the year 1748, 



252 OTHO H. WILLIAMS. 

and received, during his youtli, but a slender education. Tliis iie 
so much improved by subsequent study, that few men had a finer 
taste, or a more cuhivated intellect. 

"He commenced his military career as lieutenant of a rifle com- 
pany in 1775,- and, in the course of the following year, was pro- 
moted to the rank of a major in a rifle regiment. 

"In this course he very honorably distinguished himself in the 
defence of Fort Washington, on York Island, when assaulted by 
Sir William Howej and, on the surrender of that post, became a 
prisoner. Having suffered much by close confinement during his 
captivity, he was exchanged for major Ackland, after the capture 
of Burgoyne, and immediately rejoined the standard of his coun- 
try. 

"Being now promoted to the rank of colonel of a regiment of 
infantry, he was detached, under Baron De Kalb, to the army of 
the south. General Gates having been appointed to the command 
of this division of the American forces, he was present with that 
officer at the defeat before Camden; and during the action mani- 
fested great valor and skill, in directing and leading the operations 
against the enemy, while resistance was practicable; and an e- 
qual degree of self-possession and address, in conducting the troops 
from the field, when compelled to retreat. But as an officer, his 
valor and skill in battle were among the lowest of his qualifica- 
tions. His penetration and sagacity, united to a profound judg- 
ment and capacious mind, rendered him in the cabinet particular- 
ly valuable. Hence he was one of general Greene's favorite 
counsellors, during the whole of his southern campaigns. Nor 
did any thing ever occur, either through neglect or mistake, to in;- 
pair the confidence thus reposed in him. In no inconsiderable de- 
gree, he was to Greene, what that officer had been to general Wash- 
ington, his strongest hope in all emergencies, where great policy 
and address were required. 

"This was clearly manifested by the post assigned to hira by 
general Greene, during his celebrated retreat through North Car- 
olina. In that great and memorable movement, on which tlie fate 
of the south was staked, to Williams was confided the command of 
the rear guard, which was literally the shield and rampart of the 
army. Had he relaxed, but for a moment, in his vigilance and ex- 



EUFtrS PUTNAM. 253 

ertion, or been guilty of a single imprudent act, ruin must have 
ensued. Nor was his command much less momentous, when, re- 
crossino- the Dan, Greene again advanced on the enemy. Still in 
the post of danger and honor, he now, in the van of the army, com- 
manded the same corps with which he had previously moved in 
the rear. 

'•'A military friend who knew him well, has given us the follow- 
ing summary of his character : 

'•He possessed that range of mind, although self-educated, 
which entitled him to the highest military station, and was ac- 
tuated by true courage, which can refuse, as well as give battle. 
Soaring far above the reach of vulgar praise, he singly aimed at 
promoting the common weal, satisfied with the consciousness of 
doing right, and desiring only that share of applause which was 
justly his own. • There was a loftiness and liberality in his char- 
acter, which forbade resort to intrigue and hypocrisy in the acccm- 
plishment of his views, and rejected the contemptible practice of 
disparaging others to exalt himself In the field of battle he was self- 
possessed, intelligent, and ardent; in camp, circumspect, attentive^ 
and systematic ; in council, sincere, deep, and perspicuous. Dur- 
ing the campaigns- of general Greene, he was uniformly one of 
his few advisers, and held his unchanged confidence. Nor was he 
less esteemed by his brother officers, or less respected by his sol- 
*liery. "' 

-•Shortly before the close of the war, he was promoted to the 
rank of brigadier-general." — Life of General Greene. 



RUFUS PUTNAM, 
Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
General Rufus Putnam was born in the town of Sutton, in 
the state of Massachusetts, in the month of April, 1738. His im- 
mediate progenitors were from Danvers, in the same state, where 
Mr. John Putnam, from England, settled ; being among the first 
pilgrims that arrived in North America — from whom all the Put- 
nams (as far as it is known) in the United States took their origin. 
At the early age of seven years, Rufus Putnam had the misfortune 
to lose his father, and was thrown upon the world an orphan. His 
advantages of edixation were extremely limited ; perhaps not to 



254 RUFUS PUTNAM. 

exceed six months of common schooling. Notwithstanding such 
unfavorable circumstances, possessing strong powers of mind, and 
an insatiable desire after knowledge, by improving leisure mo- 
ments, and hours stolen from sleep, he acquired a respectable fund 
of useful information. Among other pursuits, he became a first 
rate mathematician, and made considerable progress in the arts 
and sciences. Indeed he was truly a self-made man. Such were 
his acquirements in the various departments of knowledge, that 
he was enabled to fill, with credit to himself, and advantage to the 
public, several highly respectable and important offices. 

At the age of fifteen, he was put an apprentice to the millwright 
business, and he acquired a competent knowledge of that trade. 
At the age of nineteen years, he enlisted as a private soldier in 
the provincial army, which was engaged in the famous French 
war of 1756. After his discharge, at the close of that war, he and 
twenty -two'others, in returning home, missed their way, and wan- 
dered several days in the pathless forests of the northern regions 
of New-York ; and such was their extremity of suffermg, (in the 
dead of winter,) that the whole company had no other food^ for 
eighty hours, but one poor dog, which they devoured even to the 
bones. The snow, during the whole march, was from four to six 
feet deep on the ground; which they were enabled to surmount 
only with rackets, or snow shoes. The company arrived safely at 
the settlements on Deerfield river, Connecticut, after having en- 
dured sufferings that are indescribable. 

After Mr. Putnam returned from the French war, he married 
and settled in Brookfield, Massachusetts, where he followed his 
trade and cultivated a small farm, until the commencement of the 
American revolution. In every sense a violent whig, he was 
among the first who engaged in that important, and then consid- 
ered perilous struggle. At the beginning of the war, he was ap- 
pointed a colonel in the Massachusetts line. He repaired to Bos- 
ton, and bore a part in the earliest scenes of the revolutionary 
contest. He was soon noticed by the commanding geneml, and 
employed by him as an engineer during a considerable part of the 
war; and was often sent, under circumstances of the greatest dan- 
ger, to reconnoitre the movements of the enemy. At the head of 
his regiment, he stormed one of the redoubts at the capturing of 



an RUFUS PUTNAM- 255 

general Burgoyne's army, where he received a slight wound. — 
Near the close of the revolutionj he was promoted to the rank of 
brigadier-general . 

After the termination of the war which established the indepen- 
dence of our country, general Putnam retired to a farm in Rutland, 
in his native state. For a number of years he was employed as 
a magistrate, and occasionally served his town in the Massachu- 
setts legislature. He was engaged by the state to make extensive 
surveys of her lands lying in the district of Maine. He took an 
active part in the suppression of the Shays insurrection, and more 
than once jeopardised his Ufe. 

In the years 1786 and 7, he was engaged in organizing the 
Ohio Company, for the purpose of purchasing western lands. He 
was one of the directors of that company, and appointed general 
superintendent of its concerns. Late in the season of 1787, he 
started from home, with forty men in his employ, for the Ohio 
country. The weather was very inclement. The roads over the 
mountains (if they could be called roads, scarcely travelled except 
by pack-horses,) were so bad, that the party did not arrive at the 
mouth of the Muskingum river, until the 7th day of April 1788. 
The company had contracted for one million and a half of acres 
of land in the neighborhood of this place. Here they landed, and 
began the first permanent white settlement in what is now called 
the state of Ohio. The country was then a perfect wilderness. 
From this circumstance, general Putnam has been properly called 
the Father of Ohio. Several forts and block-houses were erected 
to protect the inhabitants, in case the Indians should prove to be 
hostile. This settlement advanced slowly for near two years. — 
Small improvements had been extended in various directions, 
when on a sudden a dreadful Indian war broke out. Big Bottom 
settlement, about forty miles above Marietta, on the river, was 
utterly destroyed, and nearly all the inhabitants were massacred. 
This happened on the 31st of December, 1790. The settlers were 
driven to forts and stockades for safety. Thus the progress of the 
infant settlements was retarded for several years. In the mean 
time the defeats of general Harmar and general St. Clair took 
place, which much emboldened the Indians, and stimulated them 
to further ruthless deeds. Shut up in garrisons, and cultivating 



256 RUFtJS PUTNAM. 

their corn-fields, to prevent starvation, under the cover of mihtary 
protection, the people felt nothing like safety, until the treaty of 
general Wayne with the Indians in 1795. From this auspicious 
event, the country began to settle fast; and general Putnam lived 
to see the flourishing state of Ohio parcelled into seventy counties, 
containing a population of nearly a million of inhabitants — a ra- 
pidity of growth unparallelled in the history of nations. 

General Putnam was appointed by president Washington, (who 
knew his merit,) a judge of the supreme court of the North West- 
ern Territory ; being preferred to several eminent lawyers, who 
were applicants for the same office. Being possessed of strong, 
discriminating powers of mind, having read some law, and assisted 
by an excellent library, he discharged the duties of that office to 
general acceptance. 

In the year 1792, general Putnam was appointed a brigadier- 
general in the army of the United States, under general Wayne, 
He went as far as Vincennes, on the Wabash — held a treaty with 
some Indians — was taken sick, and with difficulty reached home ; 
on which he resigned his commission, and bid a final adieu to a 
military life. 

In 1795, president Washington appointed him surveyor-general 
of the United States ; which office he held nine years, ably and 
honestly discharging its onerous and important duties. He repre- 
sented the county of Washington in the convention that formed the 
constitution of Ohio, and took a prominent part in the deliberations 
which resulted in that excellent instrument. The last twenty 
years of his life were spent in retirement, and exertions to do 
good. In early life he professed his belief in the religion of Jesus 
Christ, and ever after evinced a sincere attachment to his holy- 
cause, in the first settlement of the country, he supported a min- 
ister of the gospel, for several years, almost wholly at his own 
expense. He was at the majority of the expense of erecting one 
of the best churches in Ohio, which still stands the monument of 
his beneficence. His frequent, and (for him, who never was very 
rich,) liberal donations to colleges, academies, missionary and other 
benevolent institutions, demonstrate his attachment to the best 
interests of man. 

General Putnam was twice married. His first wife and child 



PELEG WADSWORTH. 257 

died within one year after their union. By his second marriage he 
had nine children ; eight of whom arrived at mature age, and, with 
the exception of one, had families. His children, grand, and great 
grand children, are scattered through the state of Ohio, and other 
adjoining states. He lived to the advanced age of eighty-six years, 
and died on the first day of May, 1824. His closing scene was 
that of a Christian soldier. He who had faced death so often in 
the field of carnage, now met him unappalled. His end was peace. 



PELEG WADSWORTH, 
General of the Massachusetts Militia, 
*'The following is an abstract of an interesting narrative taken 
from the travels of the late Dr. Dwight : 

"After the failure of the expedition against the British garrison 
at Penobscot, general Peleg Wadsworth was appointed, in the 
spring of 1780, to the command of a party of state troops in Cam- 
den, in the district of Maine. At the expiration of the period for 
which the troops were engaged, in February following, general 
Wadsworth dismissed his troops, retaining six soldiers only as a 
guai'd, and he was making preparations to depart from the place. 
A neighboring inhabitant communicated his situation to the British 
commander at Penobscot, and a party of twenty-five soldiers, 
commanded by lieutenant Stockton, was sent to make him a pris- 
oner. They embarked in a small schooner, and landing within 
four miles of the general's quarters, they were Concealed at the 
house of one Snow, a raethodist preacher, professedly a friend to 
him, but really a traitor, till eleven o'clock in the evening, where 
they made their arrangements for the attack on the general's quar- 
ters. The party rushed suddenly on the sentinel, who gave the 
alarm, and one of his comrades instantly opened the door of the 
kitchen, and the enemy were so near as to enter with the sentinel. 
The lady of the general, and her friend Miss Fenno, of Boston, 
were in the house at the time ; and Mrs. Wadsworth escaped from 
the room of her husband into that of Miss Fenno. The assailants 
soon became masters of the whole house, except the room where 
the geaeral was, and which was strongly barred, and they kept 
up a constant firing of musketry into the windows and doors, ex- 
cept into those of the ladies' room. General Wadsworth was pro- 

23 



258 PELEG WADSWORTH. 

vided with a pair of pistols, a blunderbus?, and a lusce, which he 
employed with great dexterity, being determined to defend himself 
to the last moment. With his pistols, which he discharged several 
times, he defended the windows of his room, and a door which 
opened into the kitchen. His blunderbuss he snapped several 
times, but unfoi'tunately it missed hre; he then seized his fusee. 
which he discharged on some who were breaking through one of 
the windows, and obliged them to flee. He next defended himself 
with the bayonet, till he received a ball through his left arm, when 
he surrendered, which terminated the contest. The firing, how- 
ever, did not cease from the kitchen till the general unbarred the 
door, when the soldiers rushed into the room: and one of them, 
who had been badly wounded, pointing his musket at his breast, 
exclaimed with an oath, 'You have taken my life, and I will take 
vours.' But lieutenant Stockton turned the musket and saved his 
life. The commanding officer now applauded the general for his 
admirable defence, and assisted in putting on his clothes, saying, 
'You see we are in a critical situation- you must excuse haste.' — 
Mrs. Wadsworth threw a blanket over hmi, and Miss Fenno ap- 
plied a handkerchief closely around his wounded arm. In this 
condition, though much exhausted, he with a wounded American 
soldier, was directed to march on foot, while two British wounded 
soldiers were mounted on a horse taken from the general's barn. 
They departed in great haste. 

When they had proceeded al)0ut a mile, they met at a small 
house a number of people vvho had collected, and who inquired 
if they had taken general Wadsworth. They said no, and added 
that they must leave a wounded man in their care; and if they 
paid proper attention to him, they should be compensated ; but if 
not they Avould burn down their house : but the man appeared to 
be dying. General Wadsworth was now mounted on the horse, 
Ijehind the other wounded soldier, and was warned that his safety 
depended on his silence. Having crossed over a frozen mill-pond, 
about a mile in length, they were met by some of their party who 
had been left behind. At this place they found the British pri- 
vateer which brought the party from the fort. The captain, on 
being told that he must return there with the prisoner and the par- 
ty, and seeing some of his men wounded, became outrageous, and 



PELEG WADSU'OKTH. 259 

damned the general for a rebel, demanded how he dared to fire on 
tiie king's troops, and ordered him to help launch the boat, or he 
vould put his hanger through his body. The general replied that 
he was a prisoner, and badly wounded, and could not assist in 
launching the boat. Lieutenant Stockton, on hearing of this a- 
busive treatment, in a manner honorable to himself, told the cap- 
tain that the prisoner \vas a gentleman, had made a brave defence, 
and was to be treated accordingly, and added, that his conduct 
should be represented to general Campbell. After this, thg cap- 
tain treated the prisoner w ith great civility, and afforded him eve- 
ry comfort in his power. General Wadsworth had left the ladies 
in the house, not a window of which escaped destruction. The 
doors were broken down, and two of the rooms were set on fire, 
the floors covered with blood, and on one of them lay a brave old 
soldier dangerously wounded, begging for death, that he might be 
released from misery. The anxiety and distress of Mrs. Wads- 
worth was inexpressible, and that of the general was greatly in- 
creased by the uncertainty in his mind respecting the fate of his 
little son, only five years old, who had been exposed to every dan- 
ger by the firing into the house; but he had the happiness after- 
ward to hear of his safety. Having arrived at the British post, 
tlie capture of general Wadsworth was soon announced, and the 
shore thronged with spectators, to see the man who, through the 
preceding year, had disappointed all the designs of the British in 
that quarter; and loud shouts were heard from the rabble which 
covered the shore; but when he arrived at the fort and was con- 
ducted into the ofiicer's guard-room, he was treated with polite- 
ness. General Campbell, the commandant of the British garri- 
son, sent his compliments to him, and a surgeon to dress his wounds ; 
assuring him that his situation should be made comfortable. The 
next morning general Campbell invited him to breakfast, and at 
table paid him many compliments on the defence he had made, 
observing, however, that he had exposed himself in a degree not 
perfectly justifiable. General Wadsworth replied, that from the 
manner of the attack he had no reason to suspect any design of 
taking him alive, and that he intended therefore to sell his life as 
dearly as possible. 'But, sir,' says general Campbell, 'I under- 
stand that the captain of the privateer treated vou very ill; I shall 



260 PELEG WADSWORTH. 

see that matter set right.' He then informed the prisoner that a 
room in the officers' barracks within the fort was prepared for 
him, and that he should send his orderly-sergeant daily to attend 
him to breakfast and dinner at his table. Having retired to his 
solitary apartment, and while his spirits were extremely depressed 
by a recollection of the past, and by his present situation, he re- 
ceived from general Campbell several books of amusement, and 
soon after a visit from him, kindly endeavoring to cheer the spirits 
of his prisoner by conversation. Not long after, the officers of 
the party called, and among others the redoubtable captain of the 
privateer, who called to ask pardon for what had fallen from him 
when in a passion ; adding that it was not in his nature to treat a 
gentleman prisoner ill; that the unexpected disappointment of his 
cruise had thrown him off'his guard, and he hoped that this would 
be deemed a sufficient apology. This general Wadsworth ac- 
cepted. At the hour of dining he was invited to the table of the 
commandant, where he met with all the principal officers of the 
garrison, and from whom he received particular attention and po- 
liteness. General Wadsworth soon made application to the com- 
mandant for a flag of truce, by which means he could transmit a 
letter to the governor of Massachusetts, and another to Mrs. Wads- 
worth : this was granted, on the condition that the letter to the 
governor should be inspected. The flag was inti-usted to lieuten- 
ant Stockton, and on his return the general was relieved from all 
anxiety respecting his wife and family. General Campbell, and 
the officers of the garrison, continued their civilities for some time, 
and endeavored, by books and personal visits, to render his situa- 
tion as pleasant as circumstances would admit of. At the end of 
five weeks, his wound being nearly healed, he requested of gene- 
ral Campbell the customary privilege of a parole, and received in 
reply, that his case had been reported to the commanding officer 
at New-York, and that no alteration could he made till orders were 
received from that quarter. In about two months, Mrs. Wads- 
worth and Miss Fenno arrived ; and general Campbell, and some 
of the officers, contributed to render their visit agreeable to all con- 
cerned. About the same time orders were received from the com- 
manding general at New-York, which were concealed from gen- 
eral Wads worth; but he finally learned that he was not to be pa- 



PKLEG WADSWORTH. 261 

roled nor exchanged, but was to be sent to England as a rebel of 
too much consequence to be at liberty. Not long afterward major 
Benjamin Burton, a brave and worthy man, who had served un- 
der general Wadsworth the preceding summer, was taken and 
brought into the fort, and lodged in the same room with general 
Wadsworth. He had been informed that both himself and the 
general were to be sent, immediately after the return of a priva- 
teer now out on a cruise, either to New-York or Halifax, and 
thence to England. The prisoners immediately resolved to make 
a desperate attempt to effect their escape. They were confined 
in a grated room in the officers' barracks, within the fort. The 
walls of this fortress, exclusively of the depth of the ditch sur- 
rounding it, were twenty feet high, with fraising on the top, and 
chevaux-de-frise at the bottom. Two sentinels were always in 
the entry, and their door, the upper part of which was of glass, 
might be opened by these watchmen whenev er they thought pro- 
per, and was actually opened at seasons of peculiar darkness and 
silence. At the exterior doors of the entries, sentinels were also 
stationed; as were others in the body of the fort, and at the quar- 
ters of general Campbell. At the guard-house a strong guard was 
daily mounted. Several sentinels were stationed on the walls of 
the fort, and a complete line occupied them by night. Without the 
ditch, glacis, and abattis, another complete set of soldiers patroled 
through the night also. The gate of the fort was shut at sunset, 
and a picket-guard was placed on or near the isthmus leading 
from the fort to the main land. 

"The room in which they were confined was railed with boards . 
One of these they determined to cut off so as to make a hole large 
enough to pass through, and then to creep along till they should 
come to the next or middle entry, and lower themselves down into 
this entry by a blanket. If they should not be discovered, the 
passage to the walls of the fort was easy. In the evening, after 
the sentinels had seen the prisoners retire to bed, general Wads- 
worth got up, and standing on a chair, attempted to cut with his 
knife, the intended opening, but soon found it impracticable. The 
next day, by giving a soldier a dollar, they procured a gimblet. 
With this instrument they proceeded cautiously, and as silently as 
possible, to perforate the board, and in order to conceal every ap- 
23* 



262 PELEG WADS%VORTir. 

pearance from their servants, and from the officers, their visiters, 
they carefully covered the gimblet holes with chewed bread. At 
the end of three weeks, their labors were so far completed, that it 
only remained to cut with a knife, the parts which were left to hold 
the piece in its place. When their preparations were finished, they 
learned that a privateer in which they were to embark was daily 
expected. In the evening of the 18th of June, a very severe 
storm of rain, with great darkness, and almost incessant lightning, 
came on. This the prisoners considered as the propitious moment. 
Having extinguished their lights, they began to gut the corners of 
the board, and in less than an hour the intended opening was com- 
pleted. The noise which the operation occasioned was drowned 
by the rain falling on the roof. Major Burton first ascended to 
the ceiling, and pressed himself through the opening. General 
Wadsworth next, having put the corner of his blanket through the 
hole, and made it fast by a strong wooden skewer, attempted to 
make his way through, standing on a chair below, but it was with 
extreme difficulty that he effected it, and reached the middle entry. 
From this he passed through the door which he found open, and 
made his way to the wall of the fort, and had to encounter the 
greatest difficulty before he could ascend to the top. He had now 
to creep along the top of the fort, between the sentry-boxes, at the 
very moment when the relief was shifting sentinels ; but the falling 
of heavy rain kept the sentinels within their boxes, and favored 
his escape. Having now fastened his blanket round a picket at 
the top, he let himself dov/n through the chevaux-de-frise to the 
ground, and in a manner astonishing to himself, made his way into 
the open field. Here he was obliged to grope his way among rocks, 
stumps, and brushy in tlie darkness of night, till he reached the 
cove ; happily the tide had ebbed, and enabled him to cross the wa- 
ter, about a mile in breadth, and not more than three feet deep. 
About two o'clock in the morning, general Wadsworth found him- 
self a mile and a half from the fort, and he proceeded through a 
thick wood and brush to the Penobscot river, and after passing 
some distance along the shore, being seven miles from the fort, to 
his unspeakable joy he saw his friend Burton advancing towards 
him. Major Burton had been obliged to encounter in his course 
equal difficulties with his companion ; and such were the incredi^ 



TIBIOTHY PICKERING. 263 

ble perils, dangers, and obstructions, which they surmounted, that 
their escape may be considered almost miraculous. It was now 
necessary they should cross the Penobscot river, and very fortu- 
nately they discovered a canoe with oars on the shore suited to 
their purpose. While on the river, they discovered a barge with 
a party of British from the fort in pursuit of them, but by taking an 
oblique course, and plying their oars to the utmost, they happily 
eluded the eyes of their pursuers, and arrived safe on the western 
shore. After having wandered in the wilderness for several days 
and nights, exposed to extreme fatigue and cold, and with no other 
food than a little dried bread and meat which i hey brought in their 
pockets from the fort, they reached the settlements on the river 
St. George, and no further difficulties attended their return to their 
respective families." — Thacher's Military Journal. 



TIMOTHY PICKERING, 
Colonel in the American Army. 

Colonel Pickering was born in Salem, Massachusetts, on the 
17th July, 1746, and was descended from a respectable family, 
v/ho were among the earliest emigrants. He received a liberal 
education, and was graduated at Harvard University in 1763, at 
the moment when the peace between Great Britain and Frsnce, 
had liberated the colonies from a harassing war, and left them at 
leisure to investigate and ascertain their rights in relation to the 
mother country. The controversy, that soon arose, engrossed his 
feelings and enlisted all the powerful faculties of his mind on the 
side of his country. He soon became the champion and leader of 
the whigs in his vicinity. 

The disputes between Great Britain and her American colonies, 
(which now form the United States,) commencing with the stamp 
act, in 1765, and revived in 1767, by the act of parliament for 
raising a revenue in the colonies, gave rise to two parties, which 
at length were distinguished by the name of whig and tory; the 
latter acquiescing in the British claims of taxation ; the former re- 
sisting them. In 1767, the assembly of Massachusetts sent a 
circular letter to the speakers of the assemblies, for the purpose of 
promoting the adoption of uniform measures, (by petitions and re- 
monstrances,) to obtain a redress of grievances. Most of those 



264 TIMOTHY PICKERING. 

assemblies concurred with that of Massachusetts. In 1768, a let- 
ter from lord Hillsborough, required the assembly of Massachu- 
setts to rescind the vote of their predecessors for sending that cir- 
cular letter. This was peremptorily refused by a majority of 92 
to 17. The representatives of Salem, colonel Pickering's native 
town, were among the 17. At the next election they were neg- 
lected, and whigs chosen in their stead. This was the crisis of 
the political revolution in Salem. Colonel Pickering was then 
four and twenty years old. His elder and only brother was cho- 
sen one of the representatives : and from that time he was himself 
actively engaged in all the whig measures that were preliminary 
to the final revolution and independence of the colonies. Always 
a member of the committees of inspection and correspondence, the 
burthen of the writing rested upon him. The memory of one of 
tliem, characterized by the most magnanimous and generous sen- 
timents, is preserved by Dr. Ramsay, in his elegant "History of 
the American Revolution." 

When in 1774, the British parliament, by an act usually called 
the "Boston port-bill," shut up the capital of Massachusetts from 
the sea, thereby prostrating its active and extensive commerce^ 
the seat of the provincial government was removed from Boston 
to Sa,lem. Sympathizing with the sufferers of Boston, the inhab- 
itants of Salem, at a full town meeting, voted an address to the 
new governor, general Gage, the great object of which was, so far 
as an expression of their sentiments would go to procure relief for 
their brethren in Boston. That address was written by colonel 
Pickering. Its conclusion doctor Ramsay justly thought worth 
transcribing on the page of history. It here follows with his in- 
troductory observations : 

"The inhabitants of Salem, in an address to governor Gage, 
concluded with these remarkable words — 'By shutting up the port 
of Boston, some imagine that the course of trade might be turned 
hither, and to our benefit; but nature, in the formation of our harbor, 
forbid our becoming rivals in commerce, with that convenient mart ; 
and were it otherwise, we must be dead to every idea of justice, 
lost to all feelings of humanity, could we indulge one thought to 
seize on wealth, and raise our fortunes on the ruins of our suffer- 
ing neighbors.' " 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 265 

While the seat of government remained at Salem, colonel Pick- 
ering received a note from the secretary of the province, inform- 
ing him that the governor wished to see him at the secretary's 
house. He went and was introduced to general Gage. Taking 
colonel Pickering into another room, the general entered into con- 
versation on the state of things, the solemn league and covenant, 
and the non-importation agreement. In the conclusion, the gene- 
ral said — "Well, there are merchants who, notwithstanding all 
your agreements, will import British goods." Colonel Pickering 
answered — "They may import them, but the people will use their 
liberty to buy them or let them alone." These incidents are men- 
tioned as evidence of the confidence he had acquired among his 
fellow-citizens, from an early period of our political disputes with 
Great Britain. 

On the 28th of April, 1775, was the battle of Lexington. About 
6 o'clock in the morning, colonel Pickering being in his office, (the 
register of deeds for the county of Essex) a captain of militia from 
the adjacent town of Danvers, came in and informed him that a 
man had ridden into that town, and informed that the British troops 
had marched from Boston to Lexington, and attacked the militia. 
This officer, whose company belonged to colonel Pickering's regi- 
ment, asked for orders and received a verbal answer, that the Dan- 
vers companies should march without waiting for those of Salem. 
Immediately colonel Pickering went to the centre of the towu 
and met a few of the principal inhabitants. A short consultation 
ensued. Those who knew the distance of Lexington from Salem, 
and its relative situation to Boston, observed, that the British troops 
would certaiidy have returned to Boston long before the Salem 
militia could reach the scene of action; and that to march would^ 
therefore, be useless. It was, nevertheless, concluded to assemble 
the militia, and commence the march; and for this sole reason — 
That it would be an evidence to their brethren in the country, of 
, their disposition to co-operate in every measure which the common 
safety required. This idea, however, of the fruitlessness of their 
march, was so predominant, that they halted a short time, when 
about two miles from the town ; expecting every moment intelli- 
gence that the British troops had returned. But receiving none, 
they resumed their march, and proceeded to Medford, which was 



2(56 TIMOTHY PICKERING. 

about five miles from Boston. Here colonel Pickering first receiv- 
ed certain information that the British troops were still on their 
march, and on a route which rendered it impossible to meet therh. 
He hastened the march of the militia on the direct road to Charles- 
town and Boston; until on ah elevated part of the road, the smoke 
"was seen from the fire of a small number of militia muskets dis- 
charged at a distance, at the British troops. 

He halted the companies, and ordered them to load; in full e.\- 
pectation of coming to an engagement. At that moment a mes- 
senger arrived from general Heath, who informed colonel Picker- 
ing that the British troops had their artillery in the rear, and could 
not be approached by musketry ; and that the general desired to see 
liim. Leaving the companies in that position, he went across the 
fields and met general Heath. They soon after saw the British 
troops ascend the high ground called Bunker's-hill. It was about 
sunset. — The next day they entered Boston. 

It was before the close of the year 1775, that in organizing the 
provisional government of Massachusetts, colonel Pickering was 
appointed one of the judges of the court of common pleas for Es- 
sex, his native county, and sole judge of the maritime court (which 
had cognizance of all prize-causes) for the middle district, compre- 
hending Boston, with Salem and the other ports in Essex; offices 
which he held until he accepted an appointment in the army. 

In the fall of 1776, the arnxy under general Washington's com- 
mand being greatly reduced in numbers, a large reinforcement of 
militia was called for; five thousand from Massachusetts. Colonel 
Pickering took the command of a regiment of seven hundred men 
furnished from Essex. The quota of Salem was composed of vo- 
lunteers. This tour of duty was performed in the winter of 1776-7, 
terminating at Boundbrook, in New-Jersey ; general Washington's 
head-quarters being at JMorristown. 

Soon after his return home, colonel Pickering received an invi- 
tation from general Washington, to take the ofiice of adjutant-gen- 
eral. This he accepted, and joined the army under Washington's 
command at Middlebrook, in New-Jersey. Colonel Pickering 
was selected by the commander-in-chief for this station, on account 
of his high character, "both as a great military genius, cultivated 
by an industrious attention to the study of war, and as a gentle- 



TIMOTirV PICKERING. 267 

man of liberal education, distinguished zeal, and great method 
and activity in business." 

General Howe having embarked his army at New-York, to 
proceed, as it was understood, either to Delaware or Chesapeake 
Bay, general Washington's army marched from New-Jersey to the 
state of Delaware, and thence into the adjacent part of Pennsyl- 
\ania, to oppose the British army then marching from the head of 
Elk for Philadelphia. On the 11th of September, the battle of 
Brandywine took place. After carrying general Washington's 
orders to a general officer at Chad's ford, colonel Pickering re- 
paired to the right, where the battle commenced, and remained by 
the general's side till its te rminationat the close of the day. Orders 
were given for the rendezvous at Chester, whence they marched 
the next day to the neighborhood of Philadelphia. When refreshed 
and supplied with ammunition, the army again crossed the Schuyl- 
kill river, and advanced to meet general Howe. On the IGth of 
September, in the morning, information was received of the ap- 
proach of the enemy. Some detachmenis were made to reinforce 
the advanced guards, and keep the enemy in check until the A- 
merican army should be arrayed for action. General Washingtcri 
ordered colonel Pickering to the right wing, to aid ia forming the 
order of battle. On his return to the centre, he found the line not 
formed. Seeing the commander-in-chief with a number of officers 
about him, as in consultation, colonel Pickering pressed his horse 
up to learn the object. It was a question, whether they sliould 
receive the British on the ground then occupied by the American 
troops, or retire beyond a valley in the rear of the British, in 
which the ground was said to be wet, and impassable with artil- 
lery, which, in case of a defeat would of course be lost, excepting 
that with the left wing, commanded by general Greene, through 
which there was a firm road. By this time the fire of the troops 
engaged appeared to be drawing near. At this moment, the con- 
sultation continuing, colonel Pickering addressed general Wash- 
ington — "Sir," said colonel Pickering, "the advancing of the Brit- 
ish is manifest by the reports of musketry. The order of battle is 
not completed. If we are to fight the enemy on this ground, the 
troops ought to be immediately arranged. If we are to take the 
high ground on the other side of the valley, we ought to march 



268 TIMOTHY PICKERING. 

immediately, or the enemy may fall upon us in the midst of oui 
movements." "Let us move," was the general's answer. The 
movement then took place. It had begun to rain. The British 
army halted. The Americans formed on the high ground beyond 
the valley, and there remained during a very heavy rainy day. 
They then marched to a place called the Yellow Springs. The 
cartridge boxes were bad, and nearly all the ammunition in them 
was spoiled. Hence it became necessary to keep aloof from the 
enemy, till fresh ammunition could be made up and distributed. 
* On the 5th of October, general Washington attacked the British 
troops at Germantown. After the right wing, commanded by 
general Sullivan, had for some time been briskly engaged, general 
Washington sent colonel Pickering forward with an order to that 
officer. Having delivered it, he returned to rejoin the commander- 
in-chief It had been found that a party of the British troops had 
taken post in a large and strong house, since well known by the 
name of Chew's house, on which the light field artillery of the A- 
mericans could make no impression. Colonel Pickering first dis- 
covered the enemy to be there, by their firing at him from the 
windows on his return from general Sullivan. 

On rejoining general Washington, colonel Pickering found a 
question was agitated, in his presence, whether the whole of the 
troops then behind, should pass on, regardless of the enemy in 
Chew's house, or summon them to surrender. A distinguished 
officer urged a summons. He said it would be "unmilitary to 
leave a castle in our rear." Colonel Pickering answered, "doubt- 
less that is a correct general maxim; but it does not apply to this 
case. We know the extent of this castle, (Chew's house ;) and to 
guard against the danger from the enemy's sallying out and falling 
on the rear of the troops, a small regiment may be posted here to 
watch them, and if they sally out, such a regiment will take care 
of them : but, (he added) to summon them to surrender will be 
useless. We are now in the midst of the battle, and its issue is 
unknown. In this state of uncertainty, and so well secured as 
the enemy find themselves, they will not regard your summons; 
they will fire at your flag." A subaltern officer, with a white flag 
and drum, was sent with a summons. He had reached the gate at 
the road, when a shot from the window gave him a mortal wound. 



TIMOTHY PICKERING. 269 

In December the army marched to Valley Forge, and took up 
•winter quarters in log huts, which they erected at that place. 

Before this, the congress, then sitting at York-town, in Pennsyl- 
vania, had elected colonel Pickering a member of the continental 
board of war. General Gates and general Mifflin were elected 
members of the same board; and before the expiration of the win- 
ter, they all repaired to York-town, where the board sat. In this 
situation colonel Pickering remained until general Greene re- 
signed the office of quarter- master-general. On the 5th of August, 
1779, congress elected him Greene's successor, and he continued 
in the office of quarter-master-general during the remainder of 
the war. 

The project of besieging the city of New-York in 1781, having 
been relinquished, and the siege of York-town, in Virginia, re- 
solved on, colonel Pickering received general Washington's orders 
to prepare immediately for the march of a part of the army to that 
place, and for the transportation of artillery, and of all the stores 
requisite for the siege. This was done. The event is known to 
every body. Lord Cornwallis and his army were made prisoners. 
This decided the fate of the war. In the succeeding winter, the 
British government, despairing of conquest, abandoned all offen- 
sive operations, in America^ and in November, 1782, articles of 
peace were agreed on. 

From the year 1790 to 1794, colonel Pickering was charged by 
general Washington, (then president of the United States,) with 
several negotiations with the Indian nations on our frontiers : in 
1793, in a joint commission with general Lincoln and Beverly 
Randolph, Esq. of Virginia, to treat of peace with the western In- 
dians. And in 1794, he was appointed the sole agent to adjust 
all our disputes with the six nations ; which were terminated with 
a satisfactory treaty. 

In the year 1791, general Washington appointed him post mas- 
ter general. In this office he continued until the close of the year 
1794; when on the resignation of general Knox, he was appointed 
secretary of war. In August, 1796, Mr. Edmund Randolph hav- 
ing resigned the office of secretary of state, general Washington 
gave colonel Pickering the temporary charge of that department 
also. Some time before the meeting of congress, which was in 
24 



370 TIMOTHY PICKERINGf. 

December following, he also tendered to colonel Pickering the of- 
fice of secretary of state, which was at once declined; but as soon 
as congress assembled, without speaking to colonel Pickering a- 
gain, Washington nominated him to the senate to be secretary of 
state, and the senate approved the nomination. He continned in 
this office until May, 1800; when he was removed by president 
Adams. 

At the close of the year 1801, colonel Pickering returned to 
live in Massachusetts — In 1803, the legislature appointed him a 
senator to represent the state in congress for the residue of the 
term of Dwight Foster, Esq. who had resigned — In 1805, the legis- 
lature again elected him a senator, and for the term of six years. 

Being in debt for new lands purchased some years before, and 
by the appreciation of which he had hoped to have made an event- 
ual provision for his eight surviving children, and having no other 
resources — as soon as he was removed from office in 1800, he car- 
ried his family back from Philadelphia into the country; and with 
one of his sons went into the backwoods of Pennsylvania, where, 
w ith the aid of some laborers, they cleared a few acres of land, 
sowed wheat, and built a log hut, into which he meant the next 
year to remove his family. — From this condition he was dravn by 
the kindness of his friends in Massachusetts ; by the spontaneous 
liberality of those friends in taking a transfer of new lands, in ex- 
change for money^ colonel Pickering was enabled to pay his debts, 
return to his native state, and finall)^ to purchase a small farm in 
the county of Essex, on which he lived many years, cultivating 
it with his own hands, and literally with the sweat of his brow. 

Colonel Pickering continued to sustain the office of a senator 
in congress, till 1811, when he devoted himself entirely to the la- 
bors of agriculture. Soon after he was chosen by the legislature 
of this state, a member of the executive council, and, during the 
late war, when appi-ehensions were entertained that the enemy 
contemplated assailing our towns and cities, he was chosen a men> 
ber of the board of war for the defence of the state. — In 1814 he 
was chosen a representative in congress, and held his seat (ill 
March, 1817. 

Colonel Pickering closed his long and brilliant career of pa- 



WILUAH WASHINGTON. 271 

triotism, integrity, disinterestedness and public service, at Salem, 
January 29, 1829, in the 84th year of his age, after a sickness of 
a few days. 

WILLIAM WASHINGTON, 
Colonel in the American Armv. 

"He was the eldest son of Baily Washington, Esq. of Stafford 
county, in the state of Virginia, and belonged to a younger branch 
of the original Washington family. 

"In the commencement of the war, and at an early period of 
life, he had entered the army as captain of a company of infantry 
under the command of general Mercer. In this corps he had ac- 
quired, from actual service, a practical knowledge of the profes- 
sion of arms. 

He fought in the battle of Long-Island j and in liis retreat through 
New-Jersey, accompanied his great kinsman, cheerful under the 
gloom, coolly confronting the danger, and bearing, with exempla- 
ry fortitude and firmness, the heavy misfortunes and privations of 
the time. 

"In the successful attack on the British post at Trenton, captain 
Washington acted a brilliant and most important part. Perceiv- 
ing the enemy about to form a battery, and point it into a narrow 
street, against the advancing American column, he charged them 
at the head of his company, drove them from their guns, and thus 
prevented, certainly, the effusion of much blood, perhaps the re- 
pulse of the assailing party. In this act of heroism he received a 
severe wound in the wrist. It is but justice to add, that on this 
occasion captain Washington was ably and most gallantly sup- 
ported by lieutenant Monroe, late president of the United States, 
who also sustained a wound in the hand. 

"Shortly after this adventure, Washington was promoted to a 
majority in a regiment of horse. In this command he was very 
actively engaged in the northern and middle states, with various 
success, until the year 1780. Advanced to the rank of lieutenant- 
colonel, and placed at the head of a regiment of cavalry, com- 
posed of the remains of three that had been reduced by sickness 
and battle, he was then attached to the army under general Lin- 
coln, engaged in the defence of South Carolina. 

7 DO 



272 WILLIAM WASHINGTON. 

"Here his service was various, and his course eventful ; marked 
by a few brilliant strokes of fortune, but checkered with two se- 
vere disasters. The first of these reverses was at Monk's cor- 
ner, where he himself commanded ; the other at Leneau's Ferry, 
where he was second in command to colonel White. 

"Inured to an uncommon extent and variety of hard services,^ 
and sufficiently disciplined in the school of adversity, colonel 
Washington, although a young man, was now a veteran in milita- 
ry experience. Added to this, he was somewhat accustomed to 
a warm climate, and had acquired, from actual observation, con- 
siderable knowledge of that tract of country which was to consti- 
tute, in future, the theatre of war. 

"Such was this officer when^ at the head of a regiment of ca- 
valry, he was attached to the army of general Greene. 

"One of his partisan exploits, however, the result of a well 
conceived stratagem, must be succinctly narrated. 

"Having learnty during a scouting excursion, that a large body 
of loyalists, commanded by colonel Rudgley, was posted at Rudg- 
ley's mill, twelve miles from Camden, he determined on attacking 
> them. Approaching the enemy, he found them so secured in a 
large log barn, surrounded by abattis, as to be perfectly safe from 
the operations of cavalry. Forbidden thus to attempt his object 
by direct attack, his usual and favorite mode of warfare, he deter- 
mined for once to have recourse to policy. Shaping, therefore, a 
pine log in imitation of a field-piece, mountmg it on wheels, and. 
staining it with mud, to make it look like iron, he brought it up in 
military style, and affected to make arrangements to batter down 
the barn. To give the stratagem solemnity and effect, he des- 
patched a flag, warning the garrison of the impending destruction, 
and to prevent bloodshed, summoned them to submission. Not 
prepared to resist ai'tillery, colonel Rudgley obeyed the summons ; 
and with a garrison of one hundred and three, rank and file, sur- 
rendered at discretion. 

"In the spring of 1782, colonel Washington married Miss El- 
liot, of Charleston, and established himself at Sandy-hill, her an- 
cestral seat. 

"After the conclusion of peace, he took no other concern in 



HENRY LEE. 273 

public affairs than to appear occasionally in the legislature of South 
Carolina. 

"When general Washington accepted the command in chief of 
the armies of the United States, under the presidency of Mr. Ad- 
ams, he selected, as one of his staff, his kinsman, colonel William 
Washington, with the rank of brigadier-general. Had other proof 
been wanting, this alone was sufficient todecidehis military worth. 

"In private life he was a man of unsullied honor, united to an 
amiable temper, lively manners, a hospitable disposition, and a 
truly benevolent heart." — Life of General Greene. 



HENRY LEE, 
Colonel in the American Army. 

Colonel Lee was by birth a Virginian, and descended from the 
most distinguished branch of the Lees in that state. He pos- 
sessed the lofty genius of his family, united to invincible courage 
and firmness, and all the noble enthusiasm of the warrior. Gen- 
eral Charles Lee, who was beyond question a competent judge of 
military talent, averred, "that Henry Lee came a soldier from his 
mother's womb." General Greene pronounced him " The Eye''"' of 
the southern army, and to his counsels gave the most implicit, con- 
stant, and unbounded confidence. In the hour of difficulty, was 
danger to be averted, was prompt exertion necessary to prevent 
revolt, crush insurrection, cut off supplies, harass the enemy, or 
pursue him to destrijction, to no one did he so often turn as to Lee. 

But his ardor, brillia^ncy, and daring resolution, constituted but 
a pail of his militairy worth. In him the fierce impetuosity of 
youth was finely blended with the higher and more temperate 
qualities of age. If he had in his temperament something of the 
electrical fire of Achilles, it was ennobled by the polished dignity 
of Hector, and repressed and moderated by the wisdom of Nestor. 

For vigilance, intelligence, decision of character, skill in arms, 
a spirit of enterprise, and powers of combination, he had but few 
equals, youthful as he was, in the armies of his country. 

As an officer of horse, and a partisan commander, perhaps ho 
had no superior upon earth. 

That he was justly entitled to this encomium, appears, as well 
from the extensive catalogue of his exploits, as from the high con- 
34* 



274 JOHN LAURENS. 

fidence always reposed in him by the commanding officer under 
whom he served. This is true, no less in relation to Washington 
than Greene. He was the intimate friend and confidant of both. 
The sentiments of the latter, with regard to him, are forcibly ex- 
pressed in the following extract of a letter, dated February 18th, 
1782. 

"Lieutenant-colonel Lee retires for a time, for the recovery of 
his health. I am more indebted to this officer than any other, for 
the advantage gained over the enemy in the operations of the last 
campaign; and I should be wanting in gratitude, not to acknowl- 
edge the importance of his services, a detail of which is his best 
panegyric." — Life of Greene. 



JOHN LAURENS, 
Colonel in the American Army, 

"Son of Henry Laurens, w^as born in Charleston, in 1755. In- 
youth he discovered that energy of character which distinguished 
him through life. When a lad, though laboring under a fever, on 
the cry of fire, he leaped from his bed, hastened to the scene of 
danger, and was in a few minutes, on the top of the exposed houses, 
risking his life to arrest the progress of tlie flames. This is the 
more worthy of notice, for precisely in the same way and under a 
similar, but higher impulse of ardent patriotism, he lost his life in, 
the year 1782. 

"At the age of sixteen, he was taken to E^jrope by his father, 
and there put under the best means of ijistru^tion in Geneva.. 
and afterward in London. * 

"He was entered a student of law at the temple in 1774, and 
v/as daily improving in legal knowledge till the disputes between 
Great Britain and her colonies arrested his attention. He soon 
found that the claims of the mother country struck at the- root of 
liberty in the colonies, and that she perseveringly resolved to en- 
force these claims at every hazard. Fain would he have come 
out to join his countrymen in arms at the commencement of the 
contest; but the peremptory order of his father enjoined his contin- 
uance in England, to prosecute his studies and finish bis education. 
Asa dutiful son, he obeyed these orders; but as a patriot burning 
M ith a desire to defend his country, he dismissed Coke, Littleton, 



JOHN LAURENS. 275 

and all the tribe of jurists, and substituted in their place Vauban,. 
Folard, and other writers on war. He also availed himself of 
the excellent opportunities which London affords, of acquiring 
practical knowledge of the manual exercise, of tactics, and the 
mechanism of war. Thus instructed, as soon as he was a free- 
man of legal age, he quitted England for France, and by a circuit- 
ous voyage in neutral vessels, and at a considerable risk, made his 
way good, in the year 1777, to Charleston. 

"Independence had been declared — the American army was 
raised, officered, and in the field. He who by his attainments in 
general science, and particularly in the military art, deserved 
high rank, had no ordinary door left open to serve his country, but 
by entering in the lowest grade of an army abounding with offi- 
cers. General Washington,^ ever attentive to merit, instantly took 
him into his family, as a supernumerary aid-de-camp. Shortly 
after this appointment,, he had an opportunity of indulging his 
military ardor. He fought and was wounded in the battle of Ger- 
mantown, October 4th, 1777. He continued in general Washing- 
ton's family, in the middle states, till the British had retreated from 
Philadelphia to New-York, and was engaged in the battle of Mon- 
mouth, June 28, 1778. 

"After this, the war being transferred more northwardly, he 
was indulged in attaching himself to the army on Rhode Island, 
where the most active operations were expected soon to take place. 
There he was intrusted with the command of some light troops. 
The bravery and good conduct which he displayed on this occa- 
sion was honored by congress. 

On the 5th of November, 1778, they resolved, 'that John Lau- 
rens, Esq. aid-de-camp to general Washington, be presented with 
a continental commission of lieutenant-colonel, in testimony of 
the sense which congress entertain of his patriotic and spirited ser- 
vices as a volunteer in the American army ; and of his brave conduct 
in several actions, particularly in that of Rhode Island, on the 
29th of August last; and that general Washington be directed, 
whenever an opportunity shall offer, to give lieutenant-colonel 
Laurens command agreeable to his rank.' On the next day, a let- 
ter from lieutentant-colonel Laurens was read in congress, expres- 
sing 'his gratitude for the unexpected honor which congress were 



276 JOHN LAURENS. 

pleased to confer on him by the resolution passed the day before j 
and the high satisfaction it would have aflforded him, could he have 
accepted it without injuring the rights of the officers in the line of 
the army, and doing an evident injustice to his colleagues in the 
family of the commander-in-chief — that having been a spectator 
of the convulsions occasioned in the army by disputes of rank, he 
held the tranquility of it too dear to be instrumental in disturbing 
it, and therefore entreated congress to suppress the resolve of yes- 
terday, ordering him a commission of lieutenant-colonel, and to ac- 
cept his sincere thanks for the intended honor.' In this relin- 
quishment there was a victory gained by patriotism over self-love. 
Lieutenant-colonel Laurens loved military fame and rank; but he 
loved his country more, and sacrificed the former to preserve the 
peace and promote the interest of the latter. 

"In the next year the British directed their military operations 
chiefly agamstthe most southern states. Lieutenant-colonel John 
Laurens was induced by double motives to repair to Carolina. The 
post of danger was always the^objectof his preference. His na- 
tive state was become the theatre of war. To its aid he repaired, 
and in May, 1779, with a party of light troops, had a skirmish with 
the British at TuUifinny. In endeavoring to obstruct their pro- 
gress towards Charleston, he received a wound. This was no 
sooner cured than he rejoined the army, and was engaged in the 
unsuccessful attack on Savannah, on the 9th of October of the 
same year. To prepare for the defence of Charleston, the reduc- 
tion of which was known to be contemplated by the British, was 
the next object of attention among the Americans. To this colonel 
Laurens devoted all the energies of his active mind. 

"In the progress of the siege, which commenced in 1779, the 
success of defensive operations became doubtful. Councils of war 
were frequent — several of the citizens were known to wish for a 
surrender, as a termination of their toils and dangers. In these 
councils, and on proper occasions, colonel Laurens advocated the 
abandonment of the front lines, and to retire to new ones to be erect- 
ed within the old ones, and to risk arcassault. When these spirited 
measures were opposed on the suggestion that the inhabitants pre- 
ferreAa capitulation, he declared that he would direct his sword to 



JOHN LAURENS. 277 

the heart of the first citizen who would urge a capitulation against 
the opinion of the commander-in-chief. 

"When his superior officers, convinced of the inefficacy of fur- 
tlier resistance, were disposed to surrender on terms of capitula- 
tion, he yielded to the necessity of the case, and became a prisoner 
of war. The reverse of fortune opened a new door for serving 
his country in a higher line than he ever yet had done. He was 
soon exchanged, and reinstated in a capacity for acting. In ex- 
pediting his exchange, congress had the ulterior view of sending 
him a special minister to Paris, that he might urge the necessity of 
a vigorous co-operation on the part of France with the United 
States against Great Britain. When this was proposed to colo- 
nel Laurens, he recommended and urged that colonel Alexander 
Hamilton should be employed in preference to himself. Congress 
adhered to their first choice. 

"Colonel Laurens sailed for France in the latter end of 1780^. 
and there, in conjunction with Dr. Franklin, and count de Ver- 
gennes^ and marquis de Castries, arranged the plan of the cam- 
paign for 1781, which eventuated in the surrender of lord Corn- 
wallis, and finally in a termination of the war. Within six months 
from the day colonel Laurens left America, he returned to it, and 
brought with him the concerted plan of combined operations. Ar- 
dent to rejoin the army, he was indulged with making a verbal re- 
port of his negotiations to congress ; and in three days set out to 
resume his place as one of the aids of Washington. The Amer- 
ican and French army about this time commenced the siege of 
York-town. In the course of it, colonel Laurens, as second ia 
command, with his fellow-aid, colonel Hamilton, assisted in storming 
and taking an advanced British redoubt, which expedited the sur- 
render of lord Cornwallis. The articles of capitulation were ar- 
ranged by colonel Laurens on behalf of the Americans. 

Charleston and a part of South Carolina still remained in the 
power of the British. Colonel Laurens thought nothing done while 
any thing remained undone. He, therefore, on the surrender of 
lord Cornwallis, repaired to South Carolina, and joined the south- 
ern army commanded by general Greene. In the course of the 
summer of 1782, he caught a common fever, and was sick in bed 
when ^n expedition was undertaken against a party of the British, 



278 SETH WARNEK. 

which had gone to Combakee to carry off rice. Colonel Laurens 
rose from his sick bed and joined his countrymen. While leading 
an advanced party, he received a shot, which, on the 27th of Au- 
gust, 1782, at the close of the war, put an end to his valuable life, 
in the 27th year of his age. Kis many virtues have been ever 
since the subject of eulogy, and his early fall, of national lamen- 
tation. The fourth of July seldom passes without a tribute to his 
memory. — Rainsay''s History of South Carolina. 



SETH WARNER, 
Colonel in the American Army, 
"Among the persons who have performed important services to 
the state of Vermont, colonel Seth Warner deserves to be remem- 
bered with respect. He was born at Woodbury, in the colony of 
Connecticut, about the year 1744, of honest and respectable pa- 
rents. Without any other advantages for an education than what 
were to be found in the common schools of the town, — he was 
early distinguished by the solidity and extentof his understanding. 
About the year 1703, his parents purchased a tract of land in Ben- 
nington, and soon after removed to that town with their family. 
In the uncultivated state of the country, in the fish with which the 
rivers and j)onds were furnished, and in the game with which the 
woods abounded, young Warner found a variety of objects suited to 
his favorite inclinations and pursuits; and he soon became distin- 
guished as a fortunate and indefatigable hunter. 

"His father, captain Benjamin Warner, had a strong inclination 
to medicinal inquiries and pursuits; and agreeably to the state of 
tilings in new settlements, had to look for many of his medicines 
in the natural virtues of the plants and roots that were indigenous 
to the country. His son Seth frequently attended him in these bo- 
tanical excursions, contracted something of his father's taste for 
the business, and acquired more information of the nature and 
properties of the indigenous plants and vegetables, than any other 
man in the country. By this kind of knowledge he became useful 
to the families in the new settlements, and administered relief in 
many cases where no other medical assistance could at that time 
be procured. By such visits and practice, he became known to 
most of the families on the west side of the Green mountains; and 



SETH WARNER, 279 

was generally esteemed by them as a man highly useful, both on 
account of his information and humanity. 

"About the year 1763, a scene began to open which gave a new 
turn to his active and enterprising spirit. The lands on which the 
settlements were made, had been granted by the governors of New- 
Hampshire. The government of New- York claimed jurisdiction 
to the eastward as far as Connecticut river; denied the authority 
of the governor of New-Hampshire to make any grants to the west 
of Connecticut river; and announced to the inhabitants that they 
were within the territory of New- York, and had no legal title to the 
lands on which they had settled. The controversy became very 
serious between the two governments ; and after some years spent 
in altercation, New- York procured a decision of George HI. in 
their favor. This order was dated July 20, 1764, and declared 
Hhe western banks of the river Connecticut, from where it enters 
the province of Massachusetts bay, as far north as the 45th degree 
of north latitude, to be the boundary line between the said two pro- 
vinces of New-Hampshire and New- York.' No sooner was this 
decree procured, than the governor of New-York proceeded to make 
new grants of the lands which the settlers had before fairly bought 
of the crown, and which had been chartered to them in the king's 
name and authority by the royal governor of New-Hampshire. — 
All became a scene of disorder and danger. The new patentees 
under New-York, brought actions of ejectment against the settlers. 
The decisions of the court of Albany, were always in favor of the 
New- York patentees; and nothing remained for the inhabitants but 
to buy their lands over again, or to give up the labors and earnings 
of their whole lives, to the new claimants under titles from New- 
York. 

"In this scene of oppression and distress, the settlers discovered 
the firm and vigorous spirit of manhood. All that was left to them, 
was either to yield up their whole property to a set of unfeeling 
land-jobbers, or to defend themselves and property by force. They 
wisely and virtuously chose the latter; and by a kind of common 
consent, Ethan Allen and Seth Warner became their leaders. No 
man's abilities and talents could have been better suited to this 
business than Warner's. When the authority of New-York pro- 
ceeded with an armed force to attempt to execute their laws, War- 



280 SETH WARKER. 

ner met them with a body of Green Mountain Boys, properly 
armed, full of resolution, and so formidable in numbers and cou- 
rage, that the governor of New-York was obliged to give up this 
method of proceeding. When the sheriff came to extend his exe- 
cutions, and eject the settlers from their farms, Warner would not 
suffer him to proceed. Spies were employed to procure intelli- 
gence, and promote division among the people. When any of 
these were taken, Warner caused them to be tried by some of the 
most discreet of the people, and, if declared guilty, to be tied to a 
tree and whipped. An officer came to take Warner by force ; he 
considered it as an affair of open hostility, engaged, wounded, and 
disarmed the officer; but, with the honor and spirit of a soldier, 
spared the life of an enemy he had subdued. These services ap- 
peared in a very different light to the settlers, and to the govern- 
ment of New-York: the first considered him as an eminent patriot 
and hero; to the other he appeared as the first of villains and rebels. 
To put an end to eill further exertions, and to bring him to an ex- 
emplary punishment, the government of New-York, on March 9th, 
1774, passed an act of outlawry against him; and a proclamation 
was issued by W. Tryon, of New-York, offering a reward of fifty 
pounds to any person who should apprehend him. These proceed- 
ings of New-York were beheld by him with contempt; and they 
had no other effect upon the settlers, than to unite them more 
firmly in their opposition to that government, and in their attach- 
ment to their own patriotic leader, thus wantonly proscribed. 

"In services of so dangerous and important a nature, Warner 
was engaged from the year 1765 to 1775. That year a scene of 
the highest magnitude and consequence opened upon the world. 
■On the 19th of April, the American war was begun by the British 
troops at Lexington. Happily for the country, it was commenced 
with such circumstances of insolence and cruelty, as left no room 
for the people of America to doubt what was the course which they 
ought to pursue. The time was come, in which total subjection, 
or the horrors of war, must take place. All America preferred the 
latter; and the people of the New-Hampshire grants immediately 
undertook to secure the British forts at Ticonderoga and Crown 
Point. Allen and Warner immediately engaged in the business. 
Allen took the command, and Warner raised a body of excellent 



SETH WARISER. 281 

troops in the vicinity of Bennington, and both marched against 
Ticonderoga. They surprised and took that fortress on the morn- 
ing of the 10th of May,- and Warner was sent the same day, with 
a detachment of the troops, to secure Crown Point. He effected 
the business, and secured the garrison, with all the warlike stores, 
for the use of the continent. 

"The same year, Warner received a commission from congress 
to raise a regiment to assist in the reduction of Canada. He en- 
gaged in the business with his usual spirit of activity, raised his 
regiment chiefly among his old acquaintances and friends, the 
Green Mountain Boys, and joined the army under the command 
of general Montgomery. The honorable Samuel SafTord, of Ben- 
nington, was his lieutenant-colonel. Their regiment conducted 
with great spirit, and acquired high applause, in the action at 
Longueil, in which the ti-oops designed for the relief of St. John's 
were totally defeated and dispersed, chiefly by the troops under 
the command of colonel Warner, The campaign ended about the . 
20th of November, in the course of which, Ticonderoga, Crown 
Point, Chamblee, St. John's, Montreal, and a fleet of eleven sail 
of vessels, had been captured by the American arms. No man in 
this campaign had acted with more spirit and enterprise than col- 
onel Warner. The weather was now become severe, and Warner's 
men were too miserably clothed to bear a winter's campaign in 
the severe climate of Canada ; they were accordingly now dis- 
charged by Montgomery, with particular marks of I'espect, and 
the most affectionate thanks for their meritorious services. 

"Warner returned with his men to the New-Hampshire grants, 
but his mind was more than ever engaged in the cause of his 
country. Montgomery with a part of his army pressed on to.Qbe- 
bec, and, on December 31st, was slain in an attempt to carry the 
city by storm. This event gave an alarm to all the northern part 
of the colonies, and it became necessary to raise a reinforcement 
to march to Quebec in the midst of winter. The difficulty of the 
business suited the genius and ardor of Warner's mind. He was 
at Woodbury, in Connecticut, when he heard the news of Mont- 
gomery's defeat and death. He instantly repaired to Bennington, 
raised a body of men, and marched in the midst of winter to join 
the American troops at Quebec. The campaign during the winter 
85 



282 SETH WAR?fER. 

proved extremely distressing to the American troops. In want 
of comfortable clothing, barracks, and provisions, most of them 
were taken by the small-pox, and several died. At the opening 
of the spring, in May 1776, a large body of British troops arrived 
at Quebec, to reheve the garrison. The American troops were 
forced to abandon the blockade, with circumstances of great dis- 
tress and confusion. Warner chose the most difficult part of the 
busiuess, remaining always with the rear, picking up the lame and 
diseased, assisting and encouraging those who were the most un- 
able to take care of themselves, and generally kept but a few miles 
in advance of the British, Avho were rapidly pursuing the retreat- 
ing Americans from post to post. By steadily pursuing this con- 
duct, he brought off most of the invalids ; and with the corps of the 
infirm and diseased, he arrived at Ticonderoga, a few days after 
the body of the army had taken possession of that post. 

"Highly approving his extraordinary exertions, the American 
congress, on July 5th, 1776, the day after they had declared inde- 
pendence, resolved to raise a regiment out of the troops which had 
served with deputation in Canada. Warner was appointed a colo- 
nel, SafFord lieutenant -colonel of this regiment; and most of the 
other officers were persons who had been distinguished by their 
opposition to the claims and proceedings of New-York. By this 
appointment he was again placed in a sityation perfectly agreeable 
to his inclination and genius ; and in conformity to his orders he 
repaired to Ticonderoga, where he remained till the close of the 
campaign. 

"Oji January 16, 1777, the convention of the New-Hampshire 
grants declared the whole district to be a sovereign and indepen- 
dent state, to be known and distinguished ever after by the name 
of Vermont. The committee of safety in New- York were then 
sitting, and on January 20th, they announced the transaction to 
congress, complaining in high terms of the conduct of Vermont, 
censuring it as a dangerous revolt and opposition to lawful author- 
ity ; and at the same time remonstrating against the proceedings 
of congress in appointing Warner to the command of a regiment 
independent of the legislature, and within the bounds of that state; 
'especially,' said they, 'as this colonel Warner hath been constantly 
aud invariably opposed to the legislature of this state ; and bath 



SETH WARNER. 2g3 

been, on that account, proclaimed an outlaw by the late govern- 
ment thereof. It is absolutely necessary to recall the commissions 
given to colonel Warner, and the officers under him, as nothing 
else will do justice.' No measures were taken by congress, at 
that time, either to interfere in the civil contest between the two 
states, or to remove the colonel from his command. Anxious to 
effect this purpose the convention of New-York wrote further on 
the subject, on March 1st, and among other things, declared, Hhat 
there was not the least probability that colonel Warner could raise 
such a number of men as would be an object of public concern.' 
Congress still declined to dismiss so valuable an officer from their 
service. On June 23d, congress was obliged to take up the con- 
troversy between New-York and Vermont ; but instead of proceed- 
ing to disband the colonel's regiment, on JuneSOth, they resolved, 
'that the reason which induced congress to form that corps, was, 
liiat many officers of different states who had served in Canada, 
and alleged that they could soon raise a regiment, but were then 
unprovided for, might be reinstated in the service of the United 
States.' Nothing can give us a more just idea of the sentiments 
which the American congress entertained of the patriotic and mil- 
itary virtues of the colonel, than their refusing to give him up to 
the repeated solicitations and demands of so respectable and pow- 
erful a state as that of New-York. 

"The American army stationed at Ticonderoga were forced to 
abandon that fortress on July 6, 1777, in a very precipitate and 
irregular manner. The colonel, with his regiment, retreated along 
tlie western part of Vermont, through the towns of Orwell, Sud- 
bury, and Hubardton. At the last of these towns, the advanced 
corps of the Britisharmy overtook the rear of the American troops, 
on the morning of the 7th of July. The American army, all but 
part of three regiments, were gone forward ; these were part of 
Hale's, Francis', and Warner's regiments. The enemy attacked 
them with superior numbers, and the highest prospect of success. 
Francis and Warner opposed them with great spirit and vigor, and 
no officers or troops could have discovered more courage and firm- 
ness than they displayed through the whole action. Large rein- 
forcements of the enemy arriving, it became impossible to make 
any effectual opposition. Francis fell in a most honorable dis- 



284 SETH WARNER. 

charge of his duty. Hale surrendered with his regiment. Sur- 
rounded on every side by the enemy, but calm and undaunted, 
colonel Warner fought his way through all opposition, brought off 
the troops that refused to capitulate with Hale, checked the enemy 
in their pursuit, and, contrary to all expectations, arrived safe with 
his troops at Manchester. To the northward of that town the 
whole country was deserted. The colonel determined to make a 
stand at that place ; encouraged by his example and firmness, a 
body of the militia soon joined him ; and he was once more in a 
situation to protect the inhabitants, harass the enemy, and break up 
the advanced parties. 

"On the 16th of- August, the vicinity of Bennington became the 
seat of a memorable battle. Colonel Baum had been despatched 
by general Burgoyne to attack the American troops and destroy 
the magazines at Bennington. General Stark, who commanded at ~ 
h at place, had intelligence of the approach of the enemy, and sent 
orders, on the morning of the 16th, to colonel Warner, at Manches- 
ter, to march immediately to his assistance. In the meantime. 
Stark, with the troops which had assembled at Bennington, had at- 
tacked the enemy under colonel Baum, and, after a severe action, 
had captured the whole body. Just as the action was finished, 
intelligence was received that a large reinforcement of the enemy 
had arrived. Fatigued and exhausted by so long and severe an 
action. Stark was doubtful whether it was possible for his troops to 
enter immediately upon another battle with a fresh body of the 
enemy. At that critical moment Warner arrived with his troops 
from Manchester. Mortified that he had not been in the action, 
and determined to have some part in the glory of the day, he urged 
Stark immediately to commence another action. Stark consented, 
and the colonel instantly led on his men to battle. The Amer- 
icans rallied from every part of the field, and the second action 
became as fierce and decisive as the first. The enemy gave way 
in every direction; great numbers were slain, and the rest saved 
themselves altogether by the darkness of the night. Stark ascri- 
bed the last victory very much to colonels Warner and Herrick ; 
and spoke in the highest terms of their superior information and 
activity, as that to which he principally owed his success. The 
success at Bennington, gave a decisive turn to the affairs of that 



SETH WARNEE. 285 

campaign. Stark, Warner, and the other officers, with their troops, 
joined the army under general Gates. Victory every where fol- 
lowed the attempts of the northern army ; and the campaign termi- 
nated in the surrender of Burgoyne and his whole army at Sarato- 
ga, on October 17th, 1777. 

"The contest in the northern department, being in a great mea- 
sure decided by the capture of Burgoyne, Warner had no further 
opportunity to discover his prowess in defence of his beloved state, 
but served occasionally at different places on Hudson river, as the 
circumstances of the war required, and always with reputation. 
Despairing of success in the northern parts, the enemy carried the 
war into the southern states; and neither New-York nor Vermont 
any longer remained the places of distinguished enterprise. But 
such had been the fatigues and exertions of the colonel, that when 
he returned to his family in Bennington, his constitution, naturally 
firm and vigorous, appeared to be worn down, and nature declined 
under a complication of disorders, occasioned by the excessive 
labors and sufferings he had passed through. 

"Most of those men who have been engaged with uncommon 
ardor in the cause of their country, have been so swallowed up 
with the patriotic passion, as to neglect that attention to their pri- 
vate interests, which other men pursue as the ruling passion. — 
Thus it proved with colonel Warner: intent at first upon saving a 
state, and afterwards upon saving a country, his mind was so en- 
tirely engaged in those pursuits, that he had not made that provi- 
sion for his family, which, to most of the politicians and land-job- 
bers, was the ultimate end of all their measures and exertions. 
With a view the better to support his family, he removed to Wood- 
bury, where, in the year 1785, he ended an active and useful life, 
in high estimation among his friends and countrymen. 

"His family had derived little or no estate from his services. 
After his death, they applied to the general assembly of Vermont, 
for a grant of land. The assembly, with a spirit of justice and 
generosity, remembered the services of colonel Warner, took up 
the petition, and granted a valuable tract of land to his widow and 
family; a measure highly honorable to the memory of colonel 
Warner and of that assembly." — Williams'' Vermont. 
25* 



286 ISAAC HAYNE, 

ISAAC HAYNE, 

Colonel in the American Army. 

"This gentleman had been a distinguished and very active offi- 
cer in the American service, previous to the subjugation of Charles- 
ton. When this event took place, be found himself called to a 
separation from his family, a direliction of his property, and sub- 
mission to the conqueror. In this situation he thought it his duty 
to become a voluntary prisoner, and take his parole. On surren- 
dering himself, he offered to engage and stand bound on the prin- 
ciples of honor, to do nothing prejudicial to the British interest until 
he was exchanged ; but his abilities and services were of such con- 
sideration to his country, that he was refused a parole, and told he 
must become a British subject, or submit to close confinement. 

"His family was then in a distant pait of the country, and in 
great distress by sickness, and from the ravages of the royalists in 
their neighborhood. Thus he seemed impelled to acknowledge 
himself the subject of a government he had relinquished from the 
' purest principles, or renounce his tenderest connexions, and leave 
them without a possibility of assistance, and at that moment whea 
he hourly expected to hear of the death of an affectionate wife, ill 
of the small-pox. 

"In this state of anxiety, he subscribed a declaration of his al- 
legiance to the king of Great Britain, with this express exceptiony 
that he should never be required to take up arms against his 
country. Notwithstanding this, he was soon and repeatedly called 
upon to arm in support of a government he detested, or to submit 
to the severest punishment. Brigadier-general Patterson, com- 
mandant of the garrison, and the intendant of the British policcj 
a Mr. Simpson, had both assured colonel Hayne, that no such thing 
would be required ; and added, 'that when the royal army could 
not defend a country without the aid of its inhabitants, it would 
be time to quit it.' 

"Colonel Hayne considered a requisition to act in British ser- 
vice, after assurances that this would never be required, as a breach 
of contract, and a release in the eye of conscience, from any obli- 
gation on his part. Accordingly he took the first opportunity of 
resuming his arms as an American, and assumed the command of 
his own regiment; who following their former commander, colonel 



ISAAC HAVNE. 287 

Hayne marched with a respectable body to the relief of his coun- 
trymen, then endeavoring to drive the British partizans, and keep 
them within the environs of Charleston. He very unfortunately, 
in a short time, fell into the hands of a strong British party, sent 
out for the recovery of a favorite officer,general Williamson, who 
had left the American cause, and become a devotee to the British 
government. 

"As soon as colonel Hayne was captured, he was closely im- 
prisoned. This was on the 26th of July. He was notified the 
same day, that a court of officers would assemble the next day, to 
determine in what point of view he ought to be considered. On 
the 29th, he was informed, that in consequence of a court of in- 
quiry held the day before, lord Rawdon and lieutenant-colonel 
Balfour, had resolved upon his execution within two days. 

"His astonishment at these summary and illegal proceedings 
can scarcely be conceived. The sentence seized all classes of 
people with horror and dismay. A petition headed by the British 
governor Ball, and signed by a number of royalists, was pre- 
sented in his behalf, but was totally disregarded. The ladies of 
Charleston, both whigs and tories, now united in a petition to lord 
Rawdon, couched in the most eloquent and moving language, pray 
ing that the valuable life of colonel Hayne might be spared ; but 
this also was treated with neglect. It was now proposed that col- 
onel Hayne's children (the mother had recently expired with the 
small-pox) should, in their mourning habiliments be presented to 
plead for the life of their only surviving parent: — ^being intro- 
duced into his presence they fell on their knees, and with clasped 
hands and weeping eyes they lispedt heir father's name, and plead- 
ed most earnestly for his life. (Reader ! what is your anticipation ? 
Do you imagine that lord Rawdon, pitying their motherless con- 
dition, tenderly embraced these afflicted children, and restored to 
them the fond embrace of their father? No!! The unfeeling 
man still remained inexorable ; he suffered even those little ones 
to plead in vain !) His son, a youth of thirteen, who was permit- 
ted to stay with his father in prison, beholding his only parent 
loaded with irons, and condemned to die, was overwhelmed with 
grief and sorrow? 'Why,' said he, 'my son, will you thus break 
your father's heart with unavailing sorrow? have I not often told 



288 JOHN EAGER HOWABD 

you that we came into this world to prepare for a better life ? my 
dear boy your father is prepared, instead then of weeping, rejoice 
my son, that my troubles are so near an end. To-morrow I set 
out for immortality. You will accompany me to the place of my 
departure, and when I am dead, take me and bury me by the side 
of your mother.' The youth fell on his neck. Oh, my father, my 
father! I will die with you ! Colonel Hayne would have returned 
the strong embrace of his son, but alas ! his hands were confined 
with irons. 'Live,' said he, 'my son, live to honor God by a good 
life — live to serve your country, and live to take care of your broth- 
er and little sister !' The next morning colonel Hayne was con- 
ducted to the place of execution. His son accompanied him. — 
Soon as they came in sight of the gallows, the father strengthened 
himself and said — Now show yourself a man ! That tree is the 
bou ndary of my life's sorrows. Beyond that the wicked cease 
from troubling, and the weary are at rest. Don't lay too much at 
heart, my separation from you- — it Avill be but short. It was but 
lately your mother died. To-day I die, and you, my son, though 
but young, must soon follow us.' 'Yes, my father,' replied the 
broken hearted youth, 'I shall shortly follow you, for indeed I feel 
ihat I cannot live long.' 

On seeing, therefore, his father in the hands of the execution- 
er, and then struggling in the halter, he stood like one transfixed 
and motionless with horror. Till then he had wept incessantly, 
but as he saw that sight, the fountain of his tears was staunched 
and he never wept more. He died insane, and in his last moments 
often called on his father in terms that brought tears from the hard- 
est heart. 

JOHN EAGER HOWARD, 

COLOJVEL IN THE AMERICAN ArMY. 

For gallantry and firmness, decision of character and sound 
judgment, colonel Howard was not exceeded by any officer of his 
rank in the service of his country. With great intelligence and 
skill in arms, he was one of those heroic spirits on whom general 
Greene reposed his hopes, during the time he vvas deepest in ad. 
versity, and in his high determination to recover the south, or per- 
ish in the attempt. 



JOHN EAGER HOWARD. 289 

He was born June 4th, 1752, near the city of Bahimore. His 
paternal ancestors were from England, his maternal from Ireland. 
Burning with the generous enthusiasm of the time, Howard was 
among the first to enrol hmiself under the standard of American 
liberty. He was first in commission as a captain, and afterward 
as major, but he does not appear to have been much in action, un- 
til he took his station at the head of a regiment in the southern 
army. 

Accomplished in tactics, and ripe in experience, although only 
now in his twenty -seventh year, he was, in all respects, fitted for 
the operations of the field. 

Accordingly, no sooner did an opportunity for action present 
itself, than his valor as a soldier, and his reputation as a comman- 
der, became conspicuous in the midst of the accomplished and the 
brave. 

His brightest laurel was gathered at the Cowpens, where, as- 
suming to himself the responsibility of the act, he charged with- 
out orders, and at the point of the bayonet, a party of the enemy 
superior in number to his own command, and consisting of the 
flower of the British army. — Life of General Greene. 

After having thrown the British line into confusion by his fire 
and unexpected charge; he called out to them, in a loud and com- 
manding voice, to surrender, and they should receive "good quar- 
ters." On this summons five hundred of them instantly threw 
down their arms. 

His interview, immediately after the action, with general Mor- 
gan, the commanding officer, was eminently interesting; and were 
other evidence wanting, shows on how precarious a footing stands 
the reputation and the life of a warrior. 

"My dear Howard," said Morgan, cordially pressing his hand 
as he spoke, "you have given me victory, and I love and honor 
you; but had you failed in your charge, which you risked without 
orders, I should have shot you." 

Previously to this, colonel Howard had distinguished himself a- 
mong those who, by their gallantry and good conduct, had sus- 
tained the character of the American arms, and prevented the 
utter destruction of the forces, m the battle near Camden, where 
Gates was defeated. 



290 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 

Nor was he entitled to less applause for the spirit and judgment 
which he afterward displayed at Guilford, Hobkirk's Hill, and the 
Eutaw Springs; at the latter of which he was severely wounded. 

But a letter from general Greene, dated November 14th, 1781, 
to a friend in Maryland, is conclusive as to the military reputation 
of colonel Howard. 

"This will be handed to you (says the general) by colonel How- 
ard, as good an officer as the world affords. He has great ability, 
and the best disposition to promote the service. My own obliga- 
tions to him are great — the public's still more so. He deserves a 
statue of gold no less than the Roman and Grecian heroes. H» 
has been wounded, but has happily recovered, and now goes home 
to pay a little attention to his private affairs, and to take the charge 
of the fifth Maryland regiment, recruiting in your state." — Life 
of Greene. 

On the conclusion of the war, he married Miss Chew, daugh- 
ter of the honorable Benjamin Chew, of Philadelphia. 

Contented and happy in domestic life, and much occupied with 
his private affairs, he never sought political honors, but left to 
others to govern the country which he, by his valor, contributed 
to set free. 

He died on the 12th of October, 1827,. on his patrimonial estate, 
surrounded by a large and respectable family, pre-eminent in af- 
fluence, and passed the evening of his life in that dignified and 
felicitous retirement, which a high and unsullied reputation, a 
peaceful conscience, a cultivated intellect, and polished manners 
alone can bestow. 



WILLL4M RICHARDSON DAVIE, 

COLOXEL-COJIMANDANT OF THE CaVALRY OF NoRTH CAROLINA. 

Colonel Davie was born in the village of Egremont, in Eng- 
land, on the 20th of June, 1759. His father, visiting South Caro- 
lina soon after the peace of 1763, brought with him this son; and 
returning to England, confided him to the Rev. William Richard- 
son, his maternal uncle : who becoming much attached to his neph- 
ew, not only took charge of his education, but adopted him as his 
son and heir. At the proper age, William was sent to an acade- 
my in North Carolina ; from whence he was, after a few years, 



WILLIAM RICHARDSON DA VIE, 291 

removed to the college of Nassau-hall, in Princeton, New Jersey., 
then becoming the resort of most of the southern youth, under 
the auspices of the learned and respectable doctor Witherspoon, 
Here he finished his education, graduating in the autumn of 1776, 
a year memorable in our military as well as civil annals. 

Returning home, young Davie found himself shut out for a time 
from the army, as the commissions for the troops just levied had 
been issued. He went to Salisbury, where he commenced the 
study of law. The war continuing, contrary to the expectations 
which generally, prevailed when it began, Davie could no longer 
resist the wish to plant himself among the defenders of his country. 
Inducing a worthy and popular friend, rather too old for military 
service, to raise a troop of dragoons, as the readiest mode of ac- 
complishing his object, Davie obtained a lieutenancy in this troop. 
Without delay the captain joined the southern army, and soon af- 
terward returned home on a furlough. The command of the troop 
devolving on lieutenant Davie, it was, at his request, annexed to 
the legion of count Pulaski, where captain Davie continued until 
promoted by major-general Lincoln to the station of brigade-major 
of cavalry. In this office Davie served until the affair at Stono, 
devoting his leisure to the acquirement of professional knowledge, 
and rising fast in the esteem of the general and the army. When 
Lincoln attempted to dislodge lieutenant-colonel Maitland from 
his entrenched camp on the Stono, Davie received a severe wound, 
and was removed from camp to the hospital in Charleston, where 
he was confined five months. 

Soon after his recovery, he was empowered by the government 
of North Carolina to raise a small legionary corps, consisting of 
one troop of dragoons and two companies of mounted infantry ; at 
the head of which he was placed, with the rank of major. 

Quickly succeeding in completing his corps, in whose equip- 
ment he expended the last remaining shilling of an estate be- 
queathed to him by his uncle, he took the field, and was sedulously 
engaged in protecting the country between Charlotte and Camden 
from the enemy's predatory excursions. On the fatal 19th of Au- 
gust, he was hastening with his corps to join the army, when he 
met our dispersed and flying troops. He nevertheless continued 
to advance towards the conqueror, and :by his prudence.^ zeal, and 




292 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 

vigilance, saved a few of our wagons, and many of our stragglers. 
Acquainted with the movement of Sumpter, and justly apprehend- 
ing that he would be destroyed unless speedily advised of the de- 
feat of Gates, he despatched immediately a courier to that officer, 
communicating what had happened ; performing, in the midst of 
distress and confusion, the part of an experienced captain. 

So much was his conduct respected by the government of North 
Carolina, that he was in the course of September promoted to the 
rank of colonel-commandant of the cavalry of the state. 

At the two gloomiest epochs of the southern war, soon after the 
fall of Charleston and the overthrow of Gates, it was the good 
fortune of colonel Davie to be the first to shed a gleam through 
the surrounding darkness, and give hope to the country by the 
brilliancy of his exploits. In one instance, without loss or injury 
on his part, he entirely destroyed an escort of provisions, taking 
forty prisoners, with their horses and arms. In the other, under 
the immediate eye of a large British force, which was actually 
beating to arms to attack him, he routed a party stronger than his 
own, killing and wounding sixty of the enemy, and carrying off with 
him ninety-sLx horses, and one hundred and twenty stand of arms. 
When lord Cornwallis entered Charlotte, a small village in 
North Carolina, colonel Davie, at the head of his detachment, 
threw himself in his front, determined to give him a specimen of 
the firmness and gallantry with which the inhabitants of the place 
were prepared to dispute with his lordship their native soil. 

Colonel Tarlton's legion formed the British van, led by major 
Hanger, the commander himself being confined by sickness. When 
that celebrated corps had advanced near to the centre of the 
village, where the Americans were posted, Davie poured into it so 
destructive a fire, that it immediately wheeled and retired in dis- 
order. Being rallied on the commons, and again led on to the 
charge, it received on the same spot another fire with similar effect. 
Lord Cornwallis, witnessing the confusion thus produced among 
his choicest troops, rode up in person, and in a tone of dissatisfac- 
tion upbraided the legion with unsoldierly conduct, reminding it 
of its former exploits and reputation. 

Pressed on his flanks by the British infantry, colonel Davie had 
now fallen back to a new and well selected position. To dislodge 



WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 293 

him from this, the legion cavalry advanced on him a third time, in 
rapid charge, in full view of their commander-in-chief, but in vain. 
Another fire from the American marksmen killed several of their 
officers, wounded major Hanger, and repulsed them again with 
increased confusion. The main body of the British being now 
^vithin musket shot, the American leader abandoned the conte.st. 
It was by strokes like these, that he seriously crippled and inti- 
midated his enemy, acquired an elevated standing in the estimation 
of his friends, and served very essentially the interest of freedom. 
In this situation he was found by general Greene, on assuming 
(he command of the southern army; whose attention had been 
occupied, from his entrance into North Carolina, in remedying 
the disorder in the quarter-master and commissary departments. 
To the first, Carrington had been called; and Davie was now in- 
iUiced to take upon himself the last, much as he preferred the sta- 
tion he then possessed. At the head of this department, colonel 
Davie remained throughout the trying campaign which followed, 
contributing greatly by his talents, his zeal, his local knowledge, 
and his influence, to the maintenance of the difiicult and successful 
operations which followed. While before Ninety-Six, Greene, 
foreseeing the difficulties again to be encountered, in consequence 
')f the accession offeree to the enemy by the arrival of three regi- 
ments from Ireland, determined to send a confidential officer to the 
legislature of North Carolina, then in session, to represent to them 
his relative condition, and to urge their adoption of effectual mea- 
sures, without delay, for the collection of magazines of provisions, 
and the reinforcement of the ami}'. Colonel Davie was selected 
by Greene for this important mission, and immediately repaired 
to the seat of government, where he ably and faithfully exertcBd 
himself to give effect to the views of his general. 

The effect of the capture of Cornwallis assuring the quick re- 
turn of peace, colonel Davie returned home, and resumed the pro- 
fession with the practice of the law, in the town of Halifax, on 
the Roanoake. He was afterward governor of North Carolina, and 
one of our ambassadors to France at a very portentous conjuncture. 
Although younger by several years, than either Pickens, Ma- 
rion, or Sumpter, colonel Davie possessed talents of a higher order, 
and was much more accomplished in education and manners, than 
26 



294 HENRY DEARBORN. 

either of them. For the comeliness of his person, his martial air^ 
his excellence in horsemanship, and his consummate powers of 
field eloquence, he had scarcely an equal in the armies of the 
country. But his chief excellence lay in the magnanimity and 
generosity of his soul, his daring courage, his vigilance and ad- 
dress, and his unrelaxing activity and endurance of toil. If he 
was less frequently engaged in actual combat than either of his 
three compeers, it was not because he was inferior to either of 
them in enterprise or love of battle. His district being more in- 
terior, was at first less frequently invaded by British detachments. 
When, however, lord Cornwallis ultimately advanced into that 
quarter, his scouts and foraging parties found in colonel Davie 
and his brave associates, as formidable an enemy as they had 
ever encountered. 



HENRY DEARBORN, 
Colonel in the American Arjiy. 

The subjoined sketch of the revolutionary services rendered 
bv general Dearborn, is collected from his brothers in arms. 

When the British sent a detachment to destroy the military 
stores in the vicinity of Lexington, Mr. Dearborn, then a young 
gentleman in the study of medicine, resided at Nottingham, in 
New-Hampshire. Animated by the patriotic resistance of the 
Americans, immediately upon being informed of the battle, he 
assembled the inhabitants, and observed that the time had now ar- 
rived when the rights of the American people must be vindicated 
by arms, or an odious despotism would forever be rivetted upon 
them. The militia had already gathered, and, impressed with 
these sentiments, a company of sixty-five men, armed and ac- 
coutred, paraded at 10 o'clock of the next day after the battle of 
Lexington. Dearborn advanced with them in such rapidity that 
they reached Cambridge common, a distance of fifty miles, in 
twenty hours. After remaining at Cambridge for several days, 
there being no immediate occasion for their services, they returned. 
Dearborn was soon after commissioned a captain in one of the 
New-Hampshire regiments, under the command of colonel Stark, 
and such was his popularity, and the confidence of the people in 
jhis bravery and conduct, that in ten days from the time he received 



HENRY DEARBORN. 295 

his commission, he enlisted a full company, and again marched to 
Cambridge. On the glorious seventeenth of June, information was 
received at Mystic, (now Medford,) where Dearborn was station- 
ed, that the British were preparing to come out from Boston and 
storm the works which had been thrown up on Breed's Hill, the 
night before, by the Americans. 

The regiment to which he was attached was immediately pa- 
raded and marched to Charleston-Neck. Dearborn's company 
composed the flank guard to the regiment. They crossed the 
Keck under a galling fire from the Biitish men of war and floating 
batteries, and having sustained some loss, arrived at the heights. 
The action soon commenced, and the Americans stood their ground 
imtil their ammunition was expended, and they could no longer 
beat otf the British bayonets with the but-ends of their muskets. 
Dearborn carried a fusee into the battle of Bunker's Hill, and fired 
regularly with his men. 

The next arduous service in which he was engaged, was the 
expedition to Canada, through the wilds of Kennebec, under the 
command of general Arnold. He was not ordered on this dan- 
gerous and difficult service, but persuaded a captain who was 
drafted, to exchange places with him. Thirty-two days were em- 
ployed in traversing the hideous wilderness between the settle- 
ments on the Kennebec and the Chaudiere, in which every hard- 
ship and fatigue of which human nature is capable, was endured 
indiscriminately by the officers and troops. On the highlandsy be- 
tween the Kennebec and St. Lawrence, the remnant of provisions 
■was divided among the companies, who were directed to make 
the best of their way in separate divisions to the settlement of 
Chaudiere. The last fragment of food in Dearborn's company 
was shortly consumed, and he was reduced to the extremity of di- 
viding a large dog which accompanied him, with his associates. 
When they reached the Chaudiere, from cold, extreme hardship, 
and want of sustenance, his strength failed him, and he was un- 
able to walk but a short distance without walking into the river 
to refrigerate and stimulate his limbs. With difficulty he reached 
a poor hut on the Chaudiere, where he told his men he could ac- 
company them no further, animated them forward to a glorious 
discharge of their dutv, and would suffer no one to remain to at- 



296 HENRY DEARBORN. 

tend him in his illness. His company left him with tears in their 
eyes, expecting to see him no more. Dearborn was here seized 
with a violent fever, during which his life was in danger for ten 
days, without physician or medicine, and with scarcely the com- 
mon necessaries of life. His fine constitution at last surmounted 
his disease, and as soon as he was able to mount a horse, he pro- 
ceeded to Point Levi, crossed over to Wolf's Cove, and made his 
unexpected appearance at the head of his company a few days be- 
fore the assault on Quebec. At four o'clock in the morning of the 
31st December, in a severe snow-storm, and in a climate that vies 
with Norway in tempest and in intense cold, the attack was com- 
menced. Dearborn was attached to the corps under general Ar- 
nold, who was wounded early in the action, and carried from the 
field. Morgan succeeded to the command, and "with a voice loud- 
er than the tempest," animated the troops as they stormed the first 
barrier and entered the town. Montgomery had already bled on 
immoi'tal ground, and his division being repulsed, the corps under 
Morgan was exposed to a sanguinary but unavailing contest. — 
From the windows of the store-houses, each a castle, and from the 
tops of the parapets, a destructive fii'e was poured upon the assail- 
ants. In vain was the second barrier gained by scaling ladders; 
double ranks of soldiers presented a forest of bayonets below, and 
threatened inevitable destruction to any one who should leap from 
the walls. Dearborn maintained for a long time this desperate 
Avarfare, until at last he and the remnant of his company were over- 
powered by a sortie of two hundred men, with field-pieces, who 
attacked him in front and rear, in a short street, and compelled 
him to surrender. The whole corps, originally led on by Arnold, 
were killed or made prisoners of war. 

Dearborn was now put into rigid confinement, with a number of 
other officers, who were not allowed to converse with each other 
unless in the presence of the officer of the guard. While in prison 
he was urgently solicited by the English officers to join the British ; 
was promised a colonel's commission if he would accept, and was 
assured, if he refused, that he would be sent out to England in the 
spring, and be inevitably hanged as a rebel. The only reply he 
made to their solicitations or menaces, was that he had taken up 
arms in defence of the liberties and the rights of his country ; that 



HENEY DEARBORN. 297 

he never would disgrace himself, or dishonor his profession, by 
receiving any appointment under Great Britain, but he was ready 
to meet death in any shape rather than relinquish the glorious 
cause he had espoused. 

In May, 177G, colonel Meigs and himself were permitted to re- 
turn on their parole. They were sent round to Halifax in a ship 
of war, and treated with the usual contempt and hauteur of En- 
glish officers, who would not deign to speak to Americans, nor even 
allow them to walk the same side of the quarter-deck with them- 
selves. They were put ashore in Penobscot bay, and returned 
by land. In the March following. Dearborn was exchanged and 
appointed major to the third New-Hampshire regiment, commanded 
by colonel Schammell. ■ In May, he arrived at Ticonderoga, and 
was constantly in the rear guard, skirmishing with the British and 
Indians, in the retreat of St. Clair, when pressed on by Burgoyne's 
army. 

When the advance of Burgoyne was checked, and he encamp- 
ed on the heights of Saratoga, Dearborn was appointed lieutenant- 
colonel commandant of a partisan corps of three hundred men, 
stationed in front, to act as a corps of observation in concert with 
Morgan's riflemen. In the famous engagement of the 19th of 
September, colonel Morgan himself commenced the encounter by 
driving in the out-posts and picket-guards of the right wing of the 
British army, which was commanded by general Burgoyne in per- 
son. In the hard fought battle of the 7th of October, he was in 
the division of genei'al Arnold, who commenced a furious and per- 
severing attack upon the right wing of the British forces. Wliilst 
Arnold pressed hard on the enemy, Dearborn was ordered to pass 
the right, and take possession of eight heavy cannon, which played 
over the British into the American lines. In executing this order 
he was charged by a corps of light infantry, which he repulsed 
with iixed bayonets, gained the eminence, took the cannon and 
corps of artillery attached to them, and having disposed of them, 
made a rapid movement into the rear of the British lines, and gave 
a full fire before his approach was discovered. The British were 
soon after forced to a precipitate retreat, and Dearborn assisted 
in storming their works through the whole extent, under a tre- 
mendous fire of grape and mvisketry, Arnold was wounded in 
26* 



298 HENRY DEAHEOEX. 

the same leg which suffered when Dearborn followed him to the 
assault of Quebec, and was repulsed from the works after having 
gained a temporary possession of them; but lieutenant-colonel 
Brooks having gained the left of the encampment, was enabled to 
maintain his ground. During the long contested battle which de- 
cided the fate of Burgoyne's army, Dearborn was unable to rest 
or to take any refreshments, from day -light until late at night. — 
The succeeding winter he passed in camp, at Valley Forge, with 
the main body of the American army, commanded by general 
Washington in person. 

At the battle of Monmouth, the spirited conduct of colonel Dear- 
born, and the corps under his command, attracted particularly the 
attention of the commander-in-chief After Lee had made a pre- 
cipitate and unexpected retreat, Washington, among other meas- 
ures which he took to check the advance of the British, ordered 
Dearborn, with three hundred and fifty men, to attack a body o-f 
troops which were passing through an orchard on the right wing 
of the enemy. The Americans advanced under a heavy fire, 
Mth a rapid movement, and shouldered arms. The enemy filed 
off" and formed on the edge of a morass; the Americans Avheeled 
to the right, received their second fire with shouldered arms; 
marched up till within eight rods, dressed, gave a full fire, and 
charged bayonets. The British having sustained considerable 
loss, fled with precipitation across the morass, where they were 
protected by tlie main body of the army. "What troops are those ?'' 
enquired Washington, with evident pleasure at their gallant con- 
duct — "Full blooded Yankees, from New-Hampshire, sir," replied 
Dearborn. 

When the disaffection and treason of Arnold transpired, he was 
stationed at West Point, and was officer of the day at the execu- 
tion of major Andre. 

In 1781, he was appointed deputy-quartcr-master-general, with 
the rank of colonel, and served in that capacity at the siege of 
York-Town. In short, there was scarcely a battle between York- 
Town and Quebec, during the long protracted war, in which col- 
onel Dearborn did not take a brave, active, and conspicuous part. 



JOSEPH REED. 299 

JOSEPH REED, 
Adjutant-General in the American Armv. 
Joseph Reed, president of the state of Pennsylvania, was born 
m the state of New-Jersey, the27th of August, A. D. 1741. In 
the year 1757, at the early age of sixteen, he graduated with con- 
siderable honor, at Princeton college. 

"Having studied the law with Richard Stockton, Esq. an emi- 
nent counsellor of that place, he visited England and pursued his 
studies in the temple, until the disturbances which first broke out 
in the colonies on the passage of the stamp act. On his return to 
his native country, he commenced the practice of the law, and bore 
a distinguished part in the political commotions of the day. Hav- 
ing married the daughter of Dennis De Berdt, an eminent mer- 
chant of London, and, before the American revolution, agent for 
the province of Massachusetts, he soon after returned to America, 
and practised the law with eminent success in the city of Phila- 
delphia. 

"Finding that reconciliation with the mother country was not to 
be accomplished without the sacrifice of honor as well as liberty, • 
he became one of the most zealous advocates of independence. — 
In 1774, he was appointed one of the committee of correspondence 
of Philadelphia, and afterward president of the convention, and 
subsequently, member of the continental congress. On the for- 
mation of the army, he resigned a lucrative practice, which he 
was enjoying in Philadelphia, and repaired to the camp at Cam- 
bridge, where he was appointed an aid-de-camp and secretary to 
general Washington ; and although merely acting as a volunteer, 
he displayed in this campaign, on many occasions, the greatest 
courage and military ability. At the opening of the campaign in 
177C), on the promotion of general Gates, he was advanced, at the 
special recommendation of general Washington, to the post of ad- 
jutant-general, and bore an active part in this campaign, his local 
knowledge of the country being eminently useful in the afiair at 
Trenton, and at the battle of Princeton. In the course of these 
events, and the constant follower of his fortunes, he enjoyed the 
confidence and esteem of the commander-in-chief At the end of 
the year he resigned the office of adjutant-general, and was imme- 
diately appointed a general officer, with a view to the command of 



300 JOSEPH HEED. 

cavalry; but, owing to the difficulty of raising troops, and the very 
detached parties in which they were employed, he was prevented 
from acting in that station. He still attended the army, and from 
the entrance of the British army into Pennsylvania, till the close 
of the campaign of 1777, he was seldom absent. He was enga- 
ged at the battle of Germantown, and at White Marsh, assisted 
general Porter in drawing up the militia. In 1778, he was ap- 
pointed a member of congress, and signed the articles of confede- 
ration. 

"About this time the British commissioners, governor Johnstone, 
lord Carlisle, and Mr. Eden, invested with the power to treat of 
peace, arrived in America, and governor Johnstone, the principal 
of them, addressed private letters to Henry Laurens, Joseph Reed, 
Francis Dana, and Robert Morris, offering them many advantages 
in case they .';houldlend themselves to his views. Private infor- 
mation was communicated from governor Johnstone to general 
Reed, that in case he would exert his abilities to promote a recon- 
ciliation, ten thousand pounds sterling, and the most valuable office 
in the colonies, were at his disposal; to which Mr. Reed made this 
memorable reply: — Hhat he was not loorth purchasing, but that, 
such as he loas, the king of Great Britain urns not rich enough to 
do it? These transactions caused a resolution in congress, by 
which they refused to hold any further communication with that 
commissioner. Governor Johnstone, on his return to England, 
denied in parliament ever having made such offers ; in consequence 
of which general Reed published a pamphlet, in which the whole 
transaction was clearly and satisfactorily proved, and which was 
extensively circulated both in England and America. 

"In 1778, he was unanimously elected president of the supreme 
executive council of the state of Pennsylvania; to which office he 
was elected annually, with equal unanimity, for the constitutional 
period of three years. About this time there existed violent par- 
ties in the state, and several serious commotions occurred, particu- 
larly a large armed insurrection, in the city of Philadelphia, which 
he suppressed, and rescued a number of distinguished citizens 
from the most imminent danger of their lives, at the risk of his 
own ; for which he received a vote of thanks from the legislature 
of the state. 



JOSEPH REED. 301 

"At the time of the defection of the Pennsyhania line, gov- 
ernor Reed exerted himself strenuously to bring back the revolters, 
in which he ultimately succeeded. Amidst the most ditTicult and 
trying scenes, his administration exhibited the most disinterested 
zeal and firmness of decision. In the civil part of his character, 
his knowledge of the law was very Useful in a new and unsettled 
government ; so that, although he found it in no small weakness 
and confusion, he left it, at the expiration of his term of office, 
in as much tranquility and energy as could be expected from the 
time and circumstances of the war. In the year 1781, on the ex- 
piration of his term of office, he returned to the duties of his pro- 
fession. 

"General Reed was very fortunate in his military career, for, 
although he was in almost every engagement in the northern and 
eastern section of the union, during the war, he never was wound- 
ed : he had three horses killed under him, one at the battle of Bran- 
dywine, one in the skirmish of White Marsh, and one at the bat- 
tle of Monmouth. During the whole of the war, he enjoyed the 
confidence of generals Washington, Greene, Wayne, Steuben, La- 
fayette, and many others of the most distinguished characters of 
tlie revolution, with whom he was in the habits of the most confi- 
dential intercourse and correspondence. The friendship that ex- 
isted between genei-al Reed and general Greene, is particularly 
mentioned by the biographer of general Greene. 'Among the 
many inestimable friends who attached themselves to him, during 
hii military career, there w as no one whom general Greene prized 
more, or more justly, than the late governor Reed of Pennsylvania. 
It was before this gentleman had immortalized himself by his cel- 
ebrated reply to the agent of corruption, that these two distinguish- 
ed patriots had begun to feel for each other the sympathy of con- 
genial souls. Mr. Reed had accompanied general Washington to 
Boston, when he first took command of the American army ; there 
he became acquainted with Greene, and, as was almost invariably 
the case with those who became acquainted him, and had hearts 
to acknowledge his worth, a friendship ensued which lasted with 
their lives.' Had the life of general Reed been sufficiently pro- 
longed, he would have discharged, in a manner worthy of the sub- 
ject, the debt of national gratitude to which the efforts of the biog- 



302 PETER HORRY. 

rapher of general Greene, have been successfully dedicated, who 
had in his possession the outlines of a sketch of the life of general 
Greene by his friend. 

"In the year 1784, he again visited England, for the sake of his 
health ; but his voyage was attended with but little effect, as in the 
following year he fell a victim to a disease, most probably brought 
on by the fatigue and exposure to which he was constantly sub- 
jected. In private life he was accomplished in his manners, pure 
in his morals, fervent and faithful in his attachments. 

"On the 5th of March, 1785, in the forty-third year of his age,too 
soon for his country and friends, he departed a life, active, useful, 
and glorious. His remains were interred in the Presbyterian 
ground in Arch street, in the city of Philadelphia, attended by the 
president and executive council, and the speaker and the general 
assembly of the state. — American Biographical Dictionary/. 



PETER HORRY, 

COLOXEL IN THE AmERICAX ArmY. 

This officer was a descendant of one of the many protestant 
families who removed to Carolina, from France, after the revoca- 
tion of the edict of Nantz. He early took up arms in the defence 
of his country ; and through all the trials of peril and privation ex- 
perienced by Marion's brigade, gave ample proof his strict integ- 
rity and undaunted courage. The fame which he acquired as oive 
of the band of heroes who defended the post at Sullivan's Island, 
was never tarnished. For although, in a moment of despondency, 
he once said to his general, 'I fear our happy days are all gone 
by;' it was not the consequences that might accrue to himself, but 
the miseries apprehended for his country, that caused the excla- 
mation ; for never were his principles shaken ; never, even for a 
moment, did the thought of submission enter his bosom. No man 
more eagerly sought the foe ; none braved danger with greater in- 
trepidity, or more strenuously endeavored to sustain the military 
reputation of his country. A ludicrous story is told of him, that, 
though probably varied in the narration, has its foundation in truth. 

"Colonel Horry was once ordered to await the approach of a 
British detachment in ambuscade; a service which he performed 
with such skill that he had them completely within his power; when 



JOHN JAMES, 303 

from a dreadful impediment in his speech, by which he was afflic- 
ted, he could not articulate the word y?rc.' In vain he made the 

attempt it was fi-i-fi-fi, but he could get no further. At 

length, irritated almost to madness, he exclaimed, ^shoot, damn 
you, shoot— yonkmw very well what I would say — shoot, shoot, 
and bedamn'd to youP He was present in every engagement of 
consequence, and on all occasions increased his reputation. At 
Quinby, colonel Baxter, a gallant soldier, possessed of great cool- 
ness, and still greater simplicity of character, called out, 'I am 
wounded, colonel!' Horry replied, 'think no more of it, Baxter, 
but stand to your post.' 'But I can't stand, colonel ; I am wounded 
a second time!' 'Then lie down, Baxter, but quit not your post.' 
'Colonel (cried the wounded man) they have shot me again, and if 
I remain any longer here, I shall be shot to pieces.' 'Be it so, Bax- 
ter, but stir not.' He obeyed the order and actually received a 
fourth wound before the engagement ended." — Gardai's AneciTs. 



JOHN JAMES, 
Major in thp: American Army, 
Was born in Ireland, in 1732, and was the son of an officer who 
had served king William in his wars in Ireland against king James, 
This circumstance was the origin of the name of Williamsburg, 
which is now attached to one of the districts of Carolina. The 
elder James, with his family and several of his neighbors, migrated 
to that district in 1733, made the first settlement there, and in honor 
of king William, gave his name to a village laid out on the east 
bank of Black river. To this district major James, when an in- 
fant, was brought by his parents. His first recollections were 
those of a stockade fort, and of war between the new settlers and 
the natives. The former were often reduced to great straits, in 
procuring the necessaries of life, and in defending themselves 
against the Indians. In this then frontier settlement, major James, 
Mr. James Bradley, and other compatriots of the revolution, were 
trained up to defend and love their country. Their opportunities 
for acquiring liberal educations were slender, but for obtaining 
religious instruction wer« very ample. They were brought up 
under the eye and pastoral care of the Rev. John Rae, a Presby- 
terian minister, who accompanied his congregatipa in their mi- 



304 JOHN JAMES. 

gration from Ireland to Carolina. When the revolution comnienced 
in 1775, major James had acquired a considerable portion both of 
reputation and property. He was a captain of militia under the 
crown. Disapproving of the measures of the British government, 
he resigned his royal commission, but was soon after reinstated by 
a popular vote. In the year 1776, he marched with his company 
to the defence of Charleston. In the year 1779, he was with gen- 
eral Moultrie on his retreat before general Prevost, and command- 
ed one hundred and twenty riflemen in the skirmish of Tullifinny • 
When Charleston was besieged in 1780, major James marched to 
its defence ; but governor Rutledge ordered him back to embody 
the country militia. The town having fallen, he was employed by 
his countrymen to wait on the conquerors, and to inquire of them 
what terms they would give. On finding that nothing short of 
unconditional submission, and the resumption of the character and 
duties of British subjects, would be accepted, he abruptly broken 
off all negotiation, and, rejoining his friends, formed the stamina 
of the distinguished corps known in the latter periods of the revo- 
lutionary war by the name of ]Marion's brigade. In the course 
of this cruel and desultoiy warfare, major James was reduced from 
easy circumstances to poverty. All his moveable property was 
carried off, and every house on his plantation burnt; but he bore 
up under these misfortunes, and devoted, not only all his posses- 
sions, but life itself, for the good of his country. After Greene, as 
commander-in-chief, had superseded Marion, major James conti- 
nued under the former, and fought with him at the battle of Eu- 
taw. The corps with which he served consisted mostly of rifle- 
men, and were each served with twenty-four rounds of cartridges. 
Many of them expended the whole, and most of them twenty of 
these, in firing on the enemy. As they were in the habit of taking 
aim, their shot seldom failed of doing execution. Shortly after 
this action, major James and general Marion were both elected 
members of the state legislature. Before the general had rejoined 
his brigade, it was unexpectedly attacked, and after retreating, 
was pursued by a party of the British, commanded by colonel 
Thompson. In this retreat, major James, being mounted, was 
nearly overtaken by two British dragoons, but kept them from 
cutting him down by a judicious use of his pistols, and escaped 



EV.\Jf EDWARDS. 305 

by leaping a chasm in a bridge, of twenty feet width. The dra- 
goons did not follow. The major being out of their reach, rallied 
his men, brought them back to the charge, and stopped the pro- 
gi-ess of the enemy. When the war was nearly over, he resigned 
his commission, and, like another Cincinnatus, returned to his 
farm, and devoted the remainder of his days to the improvement 
of his property and the education of his children. In the year 
1791, he died with the composure and fortitude of a Christian 
hero. — Ramsay's History of South Carolina. 



EVAN EDWARDS, 
Major in the American Army. 
The following interesting account is taken from Garden's 
"Anecdotes of the Revolutionary War." 

^' Among the' many meritorious officers who gained distinction 
in the service, there were few who deserved better, or in a more 
extensive degree obtained, the respect of the public, and affec- 
tionate esteem of his military associates, than major Edwards. — 
The major was of the Baptist persuasion, and originally designed 
for the ministry ; but, imbibing the military spirit of the times, he 
entered the army, and appeared, at the commencement of the 
war, as one of the defenders of Fort Washington. A brave and 
stubborn resistance could not save the post, which fell into the 
hands of the enemy, and Edwards became a prisoner. I have 
often heard him make a .jest of the whimsical and fantastical fig- 
ure which he exhibited on this occasion. 'It was not to be won- 
dered,' he said, 'that, starch in person, emaciated as an anatom}', 
•with rueful countenance, rendered more ghastly by misfortune, 
my dress partly military, but showing much of a clerical cut, the 
risibility of the conquerors should have been very highly excited. 
One of the leaders of the successful assailants, anxious to excite a 
still higher degree of merriment, ordered me to ascend a cart, and 
as a genuine specimen of a rebel officer, directed that I should be 
paraded through the principal streets of New-York. I was much 
amused by the exclamation of a Scottish female follower of the 
camp, who called to a companion, 'Quick, quick, lassie, rin hither 
a wee, and devart yoursel' ; they've cotch'd a braw and bonny 
rebel ; 'twill do ye guid to laugh at him.' Hooting and derision 
27 



•306 NATHAN HALE. 

attended my whole career, and at the conclusion of the farce I was 
committed to prison.' 

"In the eventful changes of the war, it so happened that the 
very individual who had so ungenerously abused his power, be- 
came a captive, experiencing the additional mortification of yield- 
ing his sword into the hands of the man whom he so lately had 
treated with scornful indignity. Struck with the singularity of 
the rencounter, and thoroughly ashamed of his former behavior, 
he with frankness said, 'You are the last man, sir, that I wished 
to meet on such an occasion, for no one have I ever so wantonly 
offended : from you I have nothing to look for but merited retalia- 
tion.' 'Not a word more on the subject, I beseech you, sir,' was 
the reply of Edwards ; 'the surrender of your sword destroyed 
every recollection of former animosity : rest assured, therefore, 
that while you remain with us, it will be equally my pride and 
pleasure to soothe the pains of captivity, and to render you every 
service in my power.' " 



NATHAN HALE, 

Captain in the American Army. 

After the unfortunate engagement on Long Island, general 
Washington called acouncil of war, who determined on an imme- 
diate retreat to New-York. The intention was prudently concealed 
from the arm}^, who knew not whither they were going, but ima- 
gined it was to attack the enemy. The field artillery, tents, bag- 
gage, and about nine tliousand men, were conveyed to the city of 
New-York, over the East river, more than a mile wide, in less than 
thirteen hours, and without the knowledge of the British, though 
not six hundred yards distant. Providence in a remarkable man- 
ner favored the retreating army. The wind, which seemed to 
prevent the troops getting over at the appointed hour, afterward 
shifted to their wishes. 

Perhaps the fate of America was never suspended by a more 
brittle thread than previously to this memorable retreat. A spec- 
tacle is here presented of an army destined for the defence of a 
great continent, driven to the narrow borders of. an island, with a 
victorious army double its number in front, with navigable waters 
m its rear; constantly liable to have its communication cut off by 



XATHAN HALE, 307 

the enemy's navy, and every moment exposed to an attack. The 
presence of mind which animated the commander-in-chief in this 
critical situation, the prudence with which all the necessary mea- 
sures were executed, redounded as much or more to his honor than 
the most brilliant victories. An army, to which America looked 
for safety, preserved ; a general who was considered as an host him- 
self, saved for the future necessities of his country. Had not, how- 
ever, the circumstances of the night, of the wind and weather, 
been favorable, the plan, however well concerted, must have been 
defeated. To a good Providence, therefore, are the people of 
America, indebted for the complete success of an enterprise so im- 
portant in its consequences. 

This retreat left the British in complete possession of Long 
Island. What would be their future operations remained uncer- 
tain. To obtain information of their situation, their strength, and 
future movements, was of high importance. For this purpose, gen- 
eral Washington, applied to colonel Knowlton, who commanded a 
regiment of light infantry, which formed the rear of the American 
army, and desired him to adopt some mode of gaining the necessary 
information. Colonel Knowlton communicated this request to 
captain Nathan EL\le, of Connecticut, who was a captain in his 
regiment. 

This young officer, animated by a sense of duty, and consider- 
ing that an opportunity presented itself by which he might be use- 
ful to his country, at once offered himself a volunteer for this haz" 
ardous service. He passed in disguise to Long Island, and exam- 
ined every part of the British army, and obtained the best possi- 
ble information respecting their situation and future operations. 

In his attempt to return, he was apprehended, carried before Sir 
William Howe, and the proof of his object was so clear, that he 
frankly acknowledged who he was, and what were his views. Sir 
William Howe, at once gave an order to have him executed the 
next morning. 

This order was accordingly executed in the most unfeeling man- 
ner, and by as great a savage as ever disgraced humanity, A 
clergyman, whose attendance he desired, was refused him; a Bible, 
for a few moments' devotion, was not procured, although he wished 
it. Letters which, on the morning of his execution, he wrote to 



308 NATHAN HALE. 

his mother and other friends, were destroyed ; and this very extra* 
ordinary reason given by the provost-mai-tial, ^^That the rebels 
should not know they had a man in their army who could die with 
so much firmness!''' 

Unknown to all around him, without a single friend to offer him 
the least consolation, thus fell as amiable and worthy a young man 
as America could boast, with this as his dying observation, that "Ae 
only lamented that he had but one life to lose for his country. 

Although the manner of this execution will ever be abhorred 
by every friend to humanity and religion, yet there cannot be a 
question but that the sentence was conformable to the rules of \var» 
and the practice of nations in similiar cases. 

It is, however, but justice to the character of captain Hale, to 
observe, that his motives for engaging in the service were entirely 
different from those which generally influence others in similar 
circumstances. Neither expectation of promotion, nor pecuniary 
reward, induced him to this attempt. A sense of duty, a hope 
that he might in this way be useful to his country, and an opinioa 
which he had adopted, that every kind of service necessary to the 
general good, became honorable by being necessary, were the 
great motives which induced him to engage in an enterprise by 
which his connexions lost an amiable friend, and his country one 
of its most promising supporters. 

The fate of this unfortunate young man, excites the most inter- 
esting reflections. To see such a character, in the flower of youth, 
cheerfully treading in the most hazardous paths, influenced bj' the 
purest intentions, and only emulous to do good to his country, with- 
out the imputation of a crime, fall a victim to policy, must have 
been wounding to the feelings even of his enemies. 

Should a comparison be drawn between major Andre and cap- 
tain Hale, injustice would be done to the latter, should he not be 
placed on an equal ground with the former. While almost every 
historian of the American revolution has celebrated the virtues, 
and lamented the fate of Andre, Hale has remained unnoticed, 
and it is scarcely known such a character existed. 

To the memory of Andre, his country has erected the most 
magnificent monuments, and bestowed on his family the highest 



FRANCIS MAEION. 309 

honors and most liberal rewards. To the memory of Hale, not a 
stone has been erected, nor an inscription to preserve his ashes 
from insult. 



FRANCIS MARION, 
Colonel in the American Armv. 

Francis Marion, colonel in the regular service, and brigadier- 
general in the militia of South Carolina, was born in the vicinity 
of George Town, in the year 1733. 

To portray the meteor-like course of hardihood and exploit traced 
by general Marion and his heroic followers, would constitute a 
picture rich in admiration and delight to the lovers of bravery and 
romantic adventure. Never was an officer better suited to the 
times in which he lived, and themuation in which it was his for- 
tune to act. For stratagems, unlooked-for enterprises against the 
enemy, and devices for concealing his own position and move- 
ments, he had no rival. Never in a single instance, was he over- 
taken in his course, or discovered in his hiding-place. Even some 
of his own party, anxious for his safety, — and well acquainted 
with many of the places of his retreat, have sought for him whole 
days in his immediate neighborhood without finding him. Sud- 
denly and unexpectedly, in some distant point, he would again ap- 
pear, pouncing upon his enemy like the eagle upon his prey. — 
These high and rare qualities conducted him repeatedly into the 
arms of victory, when the force encountered was tenfold the num- 
ber that he commanded. 

Young Marion at the age of sixteen, entered on board a vessel 
bound to the West Indies, with a determination to fit himself for a 
seafaring life. On his outward passage, the little schooner in which 
he embarked, was suddenly attacked by some monstrous fish, prob- 
ably a thorn-back whale, who gave it such a terrible stroke with 
his tail as started a plank. The frightened crew flew to their 
pumps, but in vain ; for the briny flood rushed with such fury into 
their vessel, that they were glad to quit her, and tumble as fast as 
they could into their little jolly boat. The event showed (hat this 
was but a leap "owi of the frying pan into the fire;'''' for their 
schooner went down so suddenly as not to give them time to fake 
a mouthful of food with them, not even so much as a bro^vn biscuit 
27* 



310 FRANCIS MARIOX. 

or a pint of water. After three wretched days of feverish hunger 
and thirst, they agreed to kill a little cabin dog, who had swam to 
them from the schooner just before she sunk. On his raw jlesh 
they feasted without restraint; but the hlood they preserved with 
more economj^, to cool their parched lips. In a few days, how- 
ever, their own blood for lack of cooling food, became so fiery hot 
as to scald their brain to frenzy. About the tenth day, the captain 
and mate leaped overboard, raving mad; and the day following^ 
the two remaining seamen expired in the bottom of the boat, pite- 
ously crying to the last for icater ! water ! Scarcely was this mel- 
ancholy scene concluded before a vessel hove in sight, standing 
directly for the boat, as if purposely sent to save the child that was 
tossing in it on the gloomy waves. 

Little Marion was so weak tlA he could not stir hand or foot t& 
climb up the side of the vessel.^ The captain, however, soon had 
him on board ; and by means of, chocolate and turtle broth, spar- 
ingly given him,at first, recruited him so fasty that, by the time he 
reached his native shores, he was in much better health than ever. 
So that on his return to his friends, it was founds as is often the 
case, that what was at first looked on as a great misfortune, had 
proved a very noble blessing. His constitution seemed renewed^ 
his frame commenced a second and rapid gi'owth ; while his cheeks, 
quitting their pale cast, assumed a bright and healthy olive. Ac- 
cording to the best accounts, Marion never thought of another trip 
to sea, but continued in his native parish, in that most independ- 
ent and happy of all callings, a cultivator of the earth, till his 
27th j'ear. — Wecjiis' Life of Clarion. 

Among the few who escaped was young Marion. After reach- 
ing land, Marion relinquished his original plan of life, and en- 
gaged in the labors of agriculture. In this occupation he contin- 
ued until 1759, v.hcn he became a soldier, and was appointed a 
lieutenant in a company of volunteers, raised for an expedition 
against the Cherokee Indians, commanded by captain William 
Moultrie, (since general Moultrie.) 

As soon as the war broke out between the colonies and the mo- 
ther country, Marion was called to the command of a company in 
the first corps raised by the state of South Carolina. He was 
>;oon afterward promoted to a majority, and served in that rank 



FRANCIS MARIOX, 311 

under colonel Moultrie, in his intrepid defence of Fort Moultrie, 
against the combined attack of Sir Henry Clinton and Sir Peter 
Parker, on the 2d of June, 1776. He was afterward placed at 
the head of a regiment as lieutenant-colonel commandant, in which 
capacity he served during the siege of Charleston; when, having 
fractured his leg by some accident, he became incapable of mili- 
tary duty, and, fortunately for his country, escaped the captivity 
to which the garrison was, in the sequel, forced to submit. 

When Charleston fell into the enemy's hands, lieutenant-colo- 
nel Marion abandoned his state, and took shelter in North Caro- 
lina. The moment he recovered from the fracture of his leg, he 
engaged in preparing the means of annoying the enemy, then in 
the flood-tide of prosperity. W^ sixteen men only, he crossed 
the Santee, and commenced that caring system of warfare which 
so much annoyed the British army. 

The following anecdotes of Marion and the officers and soldier? 
who served with him, are taken from colonel Horry's life of Ma- 
rion. 

Marion, with his feeble force, dared to dash up at once to Nel- 
son's ferry, on the great war path between the British armies at 
Charleston and Camden. 

"Now, my gallant friends," said he, at sight of the road, and 
with a face burning for battle, "now look sharp ! here are the British 
wagon tracks, with the sand still falling in! and here are the steps 
of their troops passing and repassing. We shall not long be idle 
herel" 

And so it turned out. For scarcely had we reached our hiding 
place in the swamp, before in came our scouts at half speed, stating 
that a British guard, with a world of American prisoners, were 
on their march for Charleston. 

"How many prisoners do you suppose there were'" said Ma- 
non. ^ 

"Near two hundred," replied the scouts. 

"And what do you imagine was the number of the British guard ?" 

"Why, sir, we counted about ninety." 

"Ninety 1" said Marion, with a smile ; "ninety ! Well, that will 
do. And now, gentlemen, if you will only stand by me, I've a 



312 FRANX'IS BIARION. 

good hope that we thirty will have those ninety by to-morrow's 
sunrise." 

We told him to lead on, for that we were resolved to die by his 
side. 

Soon as the dusky night came on, we went down to the ferry, 
and passing for a party of good loyalists, we easily got set over. 
The enemy, with their prisoners, having just effected the passage 
of the river as the sun went down, halted at the first tavern, gen- 
erally called "the Blue House,*' where the officers ordered supper. 
In front of the building, was a large arbor, wherein the topers 
were wont to sit, and spend the jocund night away in songs and 
gleeful draughts of apple brandy grog. In this arbor, flushed with 
their late success, sat the Britkh guard; and tickler after tickler 
swilling, roared it away to the tune of "Britannia strike home :" 
till overcome with fatigue, and the opiate juice, down they sunk, 
deliciously beastified, to the ground. 

Just as the cock had winded his last horn for day, we approached 
the house in perfect concealment, behind a string of fence, within 
a few yards of it. But in spite of all our address, we could not 
effect a complete surprisal of them. Their sentinels took the 
alarm, and firing their pieces, fled into the yard. Swift as light- 
ning we entered with them, and seizing their muskets, which were 
all stacked near the gate, we made prisoners of the whole party, 
without having been obliged to kill more than three of them. 

Had Washington and his whole army been upon the survivors, 
they could hardly have roared out louder for quarter, .^fter se- 
curing their arms, Marion called for their captain; but he was not 
to be found, high or low, among the living or dead. However, 
after a hot search, he was found up the chimney ! He begged 
very hard that we would not let his men know where he had con- 
cealed himself Nothing could equal the mortification of the Brit- 
ish, when thdf^came t© see what a handful of militiamen had taken 
them, and recovered all their prisoners. 

Marion was at first in high hopes, that the American regulars, 
whom he had so gallantly rescued, would, to a man, have joined 
his arms, and fought hard to avenge their late defeat. But equal- 
ly to his surprise and their aim disgrace, not one of them could 



FRANCIS MARION. 313 

be prevailed on to shoulder a musket! "Where is the use," said 
they, "of fighting now when all is lost?" 

This was the general impression. And indeed, except those 
unconquerable spirits, Marion and Sunipter, with a few others of 
the same heroic stamp, who kept the field, Carolina was no better 
than a British province. 

In our late attack on the enemV) we had but four rounds of pow- 
der and ball ; and not a single sword that deserved the name. But 
Marion soon remedied that defect. He bought up all the old 
saw blades from the mills, and gave them to the smiths, who pre- 
sently manufactured for us a parcel of substantial broadswords 
sufficient, as I have often seen, to kill a man at a single blow. 

From our prisoners in the late action, we got completely armed; 
a couple of English muskets, witk bayonets and cartouch boxes, 
to each of us, with which we retreated into Britten's neck. 

We had not been there above twenty -four hours before the news 
was brought us by a trusty friend^ that the tories on Pedee, were 
mustering, in force, under a captain Barfield. This, as we learnt 
afterwards, was one of the companies that my uncle's old coach- 
man had been so troubled about. We were quickly on horseback ; 
and after a brisk ride of forty miles, came upon their encamp- 
ment, at three o'clock in the morning. Their surprise was so 
complete, that they did not fire a single shot! Of forty-nine men, 
who composed their company, we killed and took about thirty. — 
The arms, ammunition, and horses, of the whole party, fell into 
our hands, with which we returned to Britton's neck, without the 
loss of a man. 

The rumor of these two exploits soon reached the British and 
their friends the tories, who presently despatched three stout com- 
panies to attack us. Two of the parties were British ; one of them 
commanded by major Weymies, of house-burning memory. The 
third party were altogether tories. We fled before them towards 
North Carolina. Supposing they had entirely sc(!wted us, they 
gave over the chase, and returned for their respective stations ; 
the British to Georgetown, and the tories to Black Mingo. Learn- 
ing this, from the swift mounted scouts whom he always kept close 
hanging upon their march, Marion ordered us to face about, and 
dog them to their encampment, which we attacked with great fury. 



314 FRANCIS MARION. 

Our fire commenced on them at a short distance, and with great 
effect; but outnumbering us, at least two to one, they stood their 
ground and fought desperately* But loosing their commander, 
and being hard pressed, they at length gave way, and fled in the 
utmost precipitation, leaving upwards of two-thirds of their num- 
ber, killed and wounded, on the ground. The surprise and des- 
truction of the tories would have been complete, had it not been 
for the alarm given by our horses' feet in passing Black Mingo 
bridge, near which they were encamped. Marion never after- 
wards suffered us to cross a bridge in the night, until we had first 
spread' our blankets on it, to prevent noise. 

This third exploit of Marion rendered his name very dear to 
the poor whigs, but utterly abominable to the enemy, particularly 
the tories, who were so terrified at this last handling, that, on their 
retreat, they would not halt a moment at Georgetown, though 
twenty miles from the field of battle; but continued their flight, 
not thinking themselves safe, until they had got Santee river be- 
tween him and them. 

Marion was soon after called upon to break up a tory meeting 
on the Little Pedee. 

Having put our fire-arms in prime order for an attack, we mount- 
ed; and giving our friends three cheers, dashed off, just as the 
broad-faced moon arose; and by daybreak next morning, had 
gained a very convenient swamp, within ten miles of the grand 
tory rendezvous. To avoid giving alarm, we struck into the 
swamp, and there, man and horse, lay snug all day. About e- 
leven o'clock, Marion sent out a couple of nimble-footed young 
men, to conceal themselves near the main road, and take good 
heed to what was going on. In the evening they returned and 
brought word, that the road had been constantly alive with horse- 
men, tories they supposed, armed with new guns, and all moving 
on very gaily towards the place the lad had told us of. Soon as 
it was darkfwe mounted, and took the track at a sweeping gallop, 
which, by early supper time, brought us in sight of their fires. — 
Then leaving our horses under a small guard, we advanced quite 
near them, in the dark, without being discovered; for so little 
thought had they of Marion, that they had not placed a single sen- 
tinel; but were, all hands, gathered about the fire, some cooking, 



FRANCIS MARION. 3l5 

some fiddling and dancing, and some playing cards, as we could 
hear them every now and ihen brawling out, — ^^Huzza, at him a- 
gain, damme ! aye, thafs the dandy ! My trick, begad .'" 

Poor wretches, little did they think how near the fates were 
grinning around them. 

Observing that they had three large* fires, Marion divided our 
little party of sixty men into three companies, each opposite to a 
fire, then bidding us to aim, with his pistol he gave the signal for a 
general discharge. In a moment the woods were all in a blaze, 
as by a flash of lightning, accompanied by a tremendous clap of 
thunder. Down tumbled the dead; off" bolted the living; loud 
screamed the wounded ; Avhile far and wide, all over the woods, 
nothing was to be heard but the running of tories, and the snort- 
ing of wild bounding horses, snapping the saplings. Such a tragi- 
comedy was hardly ever seen. On running up to their fires, we 
found we had killed, twenty-three, and badly wounded as many 
more ; thirteen we made prisoners; poor fellows Avho had not been 
grazed by a bullet, but were so frightened that they could not 
budge a peg. We got eighty-four stand of arms, chiefly English 
muskets and bayonets, one hundred horses, with new saddles and 
bridles, all English too, with a good deal of ammunition and bag-^ 
gage. The consternation of the tories was so great that thev 
never dreamed of carrying off* any thing. Even their fiddles and 
fiddle bows, and playing cards, were all left strewed around their 
fires. One of the gamblers, (it is a serious truth) though shot dead, 
still held the cards hard griped in his hands. Led by curiosity to 
inspect this strange sight, a dead gambler, we found that the cards 
which he held were ace, deuce, and jack. Clubs were trumps. 
Holding high, low, jack and the game, in his own hand, he seemed 
to be in a fair way to do well ; but Marion came down upon him 
with a trump that spoiled his sport, and non-suited him for ever. 

Soon after this last victory on Pedee, Marion moved down into 
the neighborhood of Black river, where he instantly got notice 
that a large body of tories, under the celebrated colonel Tynes, 
were making great preparation to attack him. This Tyne was 
a man of valor and address worthy of a better cause. In several 
contests with the whigs, he had handled them very roughly; and 
he was become such a terror to the friends of liberty in that part 



316 FRANCIS MARION. 

of the world, that they were greatly alarmed on finding that he 
was mustering all his forces to attack Marion. We were scarcely 
encamped, before three expresses arrived from the whig settle- 
ments on Black river, staging colonel Tynes' movements, and ad- 
vising to keep a good look out, for that he was a very artful and 
dangerous fellow. According to their conjectures, colonel Tynes 
must have had no less than one hundred and fifty men. Our 
number did not quite reach ninety ; but they were all volunteers, 
and exceedingly chafed and desperate in their minds, by the 
barbarous usage of the British and tories. Having, by this day's 
march of fifty miles, got within twenty miles of the enemy, who 
supposed that we were still on Pedee, Marion instantly resolved 
to attack him that night. No sooner was this made known to the 
troops, than the fatigues of the day appeared to be entirely for- 
gotten. All hands fell to work, currying, rubbing, and feeding 
their horses, like young men preparing for a ball or barbacue. 
Then after a hearty supper and a few hours sleep, we all sprung 
upon our chargers again, and dashed off about one o'clock, to try 
our fortune with colonel Tynes. Just before day, we came upon 
the enemy, whom we found buried in sleep. The roar of our 
"uns first broke their slumbers ; and by the time the frightened 
wretches had got upon their legs, man and horse, we were among 
them, hewing down. Three and thirty fell under our swords ; 
forty-six were taken; the rest, about sixty, made their escape: 
colonel Tynes himself, with upwards of one hundred horses, and 
all the baggage, fell into our hands. 

A day or two after this victory, the genei-al ordered me to take 
captain Baxter, lieutenant Postell, and sergeant Macdonald, with 
thirty privates, and see if I could not gain some advantage over 
the enemy near the lines of Georgetown, About midnight we 
crossed Black river; and, pushing on in great silence through the 
dark woods, arrived at dawn of day near the enemy's sentries, 
where we lay in ambush close on the road. Just after the usual 
hour of breakfast, a chair, with a couple of young ladies, 'squired 
by a brace of British officers elegantly mounted, came along at a 
sweeping rate from Georgetown. 

They had not passed us more than fifty steps, before they 
stopped short. I was confoundedly afraid at first that they had, 



FRANCIS MARION. 317 

somehow or other, smelt a rat ; but it turned out, as we afterwards 
learned, that this was only a little courting party, going into the 
country to dine. On getting into the gloomy woods, the girls 
were taken with a quaking fit for their sweethearts, lest that vile 
<'swamp fox," as they called Marion, should come across them. 
Whereupon the halt aforesaid was ordered, and a consultation 
held; the result of which was, that the girls should go on to their 
friend's house, and the officers back to town for a party of dra- 
goons. Accordingly the chair proceeded, and the officers galloped 
back by us, undisturbed ; for we did not think it Worth while to risk 
an alarm for the sake of a couple of officers. Presently beginning 
to feel very hungry, for we had travelled all night and eaten no- 
thing, we agreed to retire to the house of a neighboring planter, 
who was known to be a good whig. As we entered the yard, 
what should we see but the identical chair that had passed us a 
little before ! and on stepping into the house, behold the very same 
young ladies! They were richly dressed, and well formed, and 
would no doubt have appeared handsome, but for the hostile pas- 
sions which glared from their eyes, and gave their physiognomy 
a fury-like expression. They asked us, with great pertness, 
what business we had there. "The gentleman of the house," 
continued they, "is not at home, and there are no provisions here 
for you ; and to be sure, you are too much of a gentleman to think 
of frightening a family of poor helpless women !" 

Happily I made no reply; for while these young viragoes 
were catechisinjjf us at this rate, I discovered with much pleasure, 
that the lady of the house did not utter a word, but walked the 
room backward and forward with a smiling countenance. Pre- 
sently she went out; and showing herself at an opposite window, 
beckoned me to come to her ; when she said in a low voice, "Go 
back into the house, I'll be there directly. On my stepping in you 
must demand provisions; I will deny that I have any. You must 
then get into a violent passion, and swear you will have them, or 
set the house on fire. I will then throw down the keys, and you 
can take just what you want; for thank God, there is enough, both 
for you and your horses." 

Such was the farce, which the whigs of those days, both ladies 
and gentlemen, were obliged to play, when they had any of their 
28 



318 FRANCIS 3IARI0N. 

tory acquaintance about them. We now played it, and with the 
desired success ; for the troughs in the yard were all presently 
filled with corn and fodder for our cavalry ; while for ourselves, 
the good-natured cook wenches soon served a most welcome repast 
of fried bacon and eggs, with nice hearth cakes and butter and 
butter milk. "God be praised," said we ; and down we sat, and 
made a breakfast, of which even kings, without exercise and keen 
appetites, can form no idea. 

Just as we had got completely refreshed, and braced up again, 
what should we hear but the filing of our sentinels. "Tb horse! 
to horse my brave felloicsP'' was the cry of one and all. Quick 
as thought, we were all mounted and formed, Avhen, in came our 
sentinels, with the British dragoons hard after them, smack up to 
the fence. "Charge boys, charge! was the word. In a moment 
the yard was bright with the shining of our swords. The tory 
girls shrieked out for their sweethearts — "OA the British! the 
British! murder! murder! Oh!''"' Then off we went, all at once, 
in solid column. The enemy took to their heels, and we pursued. 
Over the fence we bounded like stags. Down the hill went the 
British. Down the hill went we; helter-skelter, man and horse, 
we flew, roaring through the woods like the sound of distant thun- 
der. 

We were all excellently mounted; but there was no horse that 
could hold the way with Selim. He was the hindmost of all when 
the chase began ; and I wondered at first what had become of Se- 
lim; but presently I saw him and Macdonald coming up on my 
right like a thundergust. Indeed, with his wide spread nostrils, 
and long extended neck, and glaring eyeballs, he seemed as a fly- 
ing dragon in chase of his prey. He soon had his master up with 
the enemy. I saw when Macdonald drew his claymore. The 
shining of his steel was terrible, as, rising on his stirrups, with 
high-lifted arm, he waved it tliree times in fiery circles over his 
head, as if to call up all his strength. Then, with a voice of thun- 
der, he poured his charging shout, dreadful as the roar of the lion, 
when, close up to his game, with hideous paws unclenched, he 
makes his last spring on the fat buffaloes of his chase. 

Though their mortal enemy, I could not but pity the poor fugi- 
tives, for I saw that their death was at hand. One of the British 



FRANCIS MARION. 319 

officers fired a pistol at him, but without effect ; before he could 
try another, he was cut down by Macdonald. After this, at a blow 
a piece, he sealed the eyes of three dragoons in lasting sleep. — 
Two fell beneath the steel of the strong-handed Snipes; nor did 
my sword return bloodless to its scabbard. In short, of the whole 
party, consisting of twenty-five, not a man escaped, except one 
officer, who, in the heat of the chase and carnage, cunningly 
shot off, at right angles, for a swamp, which he luckily gained, and 
so cleared himself. 

In consequence of his incessant attacks on the British and tories, 
Marion was, I believe, as heartily hated by them, as ever Samson 
was by the Philistines, or George Whitefield by the devil. Nu- 
merous were the attempts made by their best officers, to surprise 
him; but such was his own vigilance and the fidelity of his whig 
friends, that he seldom failed to get the first blow at them, and to 
take their unwary feet in the same evil net which they had spread 
for him. 

His method to anticipate the meditated malice of his enemies, 
is well worthy of notice. He always had in his service a parcel 
of active young men, generally selected from the best whig fami- 
lies, and of tried courage and fidelity. These, mounted on the 
swiftest horses, he would station in the neighborhood of those pla- 
ces where the British and tories were embodied in force, as Cam- 
tlen, Georgetown, &ic. with instructions to leave no stratagem un- 
tried to find out the intended movements of the enemy. Instantly 
as this information was obtained, (whether by climbing tall trees 
that overlooked the garrisons; or from friends acting as market 
people) they were to mount and push ofl'at full speed to the near- 
est of a chain of posts established at short and convenient distan- 
ces, with fleet horses ready saddled and bridled, to bear the intel- 
ligence with equal speed, the first to the second, the second to the 
third, and so on. In this expeditious method, as by a telegraph, 
Marion was presently notified of the designs of the enemy. Of 
the exceeding importance of such a plan, we had a very striking 
proof at this time. Exasperated against Marion, for the infinite 
harm he did the royal cause in Carolina, the British general, in 
Camden, determined to surprise him at his old place of retreat, 
Sxow's Island ; and thus destroy or break him up completely. To 



820 FRANCIS MABION. 

this end he despatched a couple of favorite oflficers, colonels Watson 
and Doyle, with a heavy force, both cavalry and infantry, to seize 
the lower bridge on Black river, and thereby effectually prevent 
our escape. But the vigilance and activity of his scouts frustrated 
this well-concerted plan entirely. Getting early notice of this 
maceuvre by captain, now general Canty, Marion instantly started 
his troops, composed chiefly of mounted riflemen and light dragoons, 
and pushed hard for the same point. By taking a nearer cut, we 
had the good fortune to gain the bridge before the enemy ; and hav- 
ing destroyed it as soon we crossed, we concealed ourselves in the 
dark swamp, anxiously waiting their arrival. In a short time they 
came in full view on the opposite hill, and there encamped. Pre- 
sently, unapprehensive of danger, for they saw nothing of us, two 
of their men came down for water to the river. Unable to resist 
such a temptation, two of our noted marksmen instantly drew their 
sights and let fly. The two Englishmen fell ; one of them was 
killed dead; the other badly wounded and so frightened, that he 
bellowed like a bull-calf for help. Severalof his gallant comrades 
ran to his assistance, but they were shot down as fast as they got 
to him. 

The next morning colonel Watson sent a flag over to Marion, 
whom he charged with carrying on war in a manner entirely dif- 
ferent from all civilized nations. "Why sir," said he to Marion, 
"you must certainly command a horde of savages, who delight in 
nothing but murder. I can't cross a swamp or a bridge, but I am 
waylaid and shot at as if I was a mad dog* Even my sentries 
are fired at and killed on their posts. Why, my God, sir! this is 
not the way that christians ought to fight I" 

To this Marion replied, that "he was sorry that he was obliged 
to say, that from what he had known of them, the British officers 
were the last men upon earth, who had any right to preach about 
honor and humanity. That for men to come three thousand miles 
to plunder and hang an innocent people, and then to tell that peo- 
ple how they ought tofiglit, betrayed an ignorance and impudence 
which he fain would hope had no parallel in the history of man. 
That for his part, he always believed, and still did believe that he 
fshould be doing God and his country good service to surprise and 



FRANCIS MAKIOX. 321 

kill such men, while they continued this diabolical warfare, as he 
would the wolves and panthers of the forest." 
Thus ended the correspondence for that time. 
While things remained in this state between the hostile parties, 
Macdonald, as usual, was employing himself in a close and bold 
reconnoitre of the enemy's camp. Having found out the situation 
of their sentries, and the times of relieving them, he climbed up 
into a^bushy tree, and thence, with a musket loaded with pistol bul- 
lets, cracked away at their guard as they passed by; of whom he 
killed one man, and badly wounded the lieutenant, whose name 
was Torquano; then sliding down the tree, he mounted his swift- 
footed Selim, and made his escape. 

The next morning colonel Watson sent another flag to Marion, 
requesting that he would grant a passport to his lieutenant Tor- 
quano, who was badly wounded, and wished to be carried to. 
Charleston. On receiving the flag, which happened while I was 
by him, Marion turned to me, and with a smile, said, "Well this 
note of colonel Watson^ looks a little as if he were coming to his 
senses. But who is lieutenant Tbrquano?'* 

I replied that he was a young Englishman, who had been quar- 
tered in Charleston, at the house of that good whig lady, Mrs. 
Brainford and her daughters, whom he had treated very politely, 
and often protected fz-om insults. 

'•Well," said he, "if that be lieutenant Torquano, he must be a 
very clever fellow ; and shall certainly have a passport to Charles- 
ton, or even to Paradise, if I had the keys of St. Peter." 

On re-passing Black river in haste, Macdonald had left his clothes 
behind him at a poor woman's house, where the enemy seized 
them. By the return of the flag just mentioned, he sent word to 
colonel Watson, that if he did not immediately send back his clothes, 
he would kill eight of his men to pay for them. 

Several of Watson's officers who were present when the mes- 
sage was delivered, advised him by all means to return his clothes, 
for that they knew him to be a most desperate fellow, one who 
would stop at nothing he set his head upon ; witness his late daring 
act of climbing like a cougar into a tree, to kill his passing enemies. 
Watson sent him back his wallet of clothes. 
From Georgetown Marion proceeded with colonel Lee to attack 
28* 



322 FRANCIS MARION. 

tlie British post on Scott's lake, generally called fort Watson. The 
situation of this fort was romantic and beautiful in the extreme. — 
Overlooking the glassy level ofthe lake, it stood on a mighty bar- 
row or tomb like a mount, formed of the bones of Indian nations, 
there heaped up from time immemorial, and covered with earth and 
herbage. — Finding that the fort mounted no artillery, Marion re- 
solved to make his approaches in a way that should give his rifle- 
men a fair chance against their musqueteers. For this purpose, 
large quantities of pine logs were cut; and as soon as dark came 
on, were carried in perfect silence, within point blank shot of the 
fort, and run up in the shape of large pens or chimney-stacks, con- 
siderably higher than the enemy's parapets. Great, no doubt, was 
the consternation of the garrison next morning, to see themselves 
thus suddenly overlooked by this strange kind of steeple, pouring 
down upon them from its blazing top, incessant showers of rifle 
bullets. Nor were they idle the while, but returned the blaze with 
equal fury, presenting to us, who lay at a distance, a very inte- 
resting scene — as of two volcanoes that Tad suddenly broke out 
into fiery strife, singeing the neighboring pines. 

Though their enemy, yet I could not bufpity the British, when 
I saw the great disadvantage under which they fought. For our 
riflemen, lying above them and firing through loop-holes, were 
seldom hurt, while the British, obliged, every time they fired, to 
show their heads, were frequently killed. — Increasing still the 
awkwardness of their situation, their well, which was on the out- 
side of the fort, was so entirely in the reach of our rifles, that they 
could not get a pail of water for coffee or grog, without the utmost 
hazard. After a gallant resistance, they surrendered themselves 
prisoners of war; one hundred and twenty in number. 

This fort had been very judiciously fixed in a country exceed- 
ingly fertile, and on a lake abounding with fine fish, and from its 
contiguity to the river Santee, forming an admirable deposit for 
their upland posts. From their military storehouse, which was 
on the outside of the fort, the British attempted, at the commence- 
ment of our attack, to get out their goods, and to roll them up into 
the fort. But in this exposed state, their men were picked off" so 
fast by our sharp-shooters, that they were soon obliged to quit such 
hot work. 



FRANCIS MARIOX. 323 

The sight of their casks and bales, rolled out and shining so 
richly on the side of the hill, set the fingers of our ragged militia- 
men on such an itch, that there was no resisting it. And presently 
a squad of three of them were seen pushing out, without leave or 
license, to attack a large hogshead, that lay very invitingly on the 
outside of the rest. The enemy seeing the approach of our buc- 
caneers, reserved their fire until they had got pretty near up to the 
intended prize ; then all at once cut loose upon them with a thun- 
dering clap, which killed one, crippled a second, and so frightened 
the third, that he forgot the cask, and turning tail, thought of noth. 
ing but to save his bacon ! which he did by such extraordinary run- 
ning, and jumping, as threw us all into a most immoderate laugh. 
Presently up comes my black waiter, Billy, with a broad grin 
on his face, and says, "Why, master, them militia-men there, sir, 
are tarnal fools: they do not know nothing at all about stealing. — 
But if you will please, sir, to let me try my hand, I can fetch off 
that hogshead there, mighty easy, sir." 

'No, no, Billy !' said I, shaking my head, "that will never do, my 
lad. I value you much too highly, Billy, to let you be knocked on 
the head, so foolishly as all that comes to." 

"Lord bless you, sir," replied he, smiling, "there is no more dan- 
ger in it, than in eating when a body is hungry. And if you will 
only please let me try my hand, sir, if you see any danger, why, 
then, piaster, you may call me back, you know, sir." 

Upon this he started. Fortunately for him, our riflemen, see- 
ing what he was after, made a noble diversion in his favor, by 
throwing a galling fire into the fort. On getting within thirty 
yards of the hogshead, he fell flat on his face, and dragged himself 
along on his belly until he reached it. Then seizing the hogs- 
head with a hand on each chime he worked it backwards and 
backwards, like an alligator pulling a dog into the river, until he 
had fairly rolled his prize to the brink of the hill, where, giving it 
a suddehjerk by way of a start, and at the same time jumping up, 
he ran with all his might down the precipice, the hogshead hard 
after him, and was soon out of all danger. Numbers of shot were 
fired at him, but not one touched him, which gave great joy to our 
encampment, who were all anxious spectators of the transaction, 
and seemed to take a deep interest in Billy's success. And no 



324 FRANCIS MARION. 

wonder; for he was a most noble hearted fellow, and exceedingly 
useful in camp. Officers or soldiers, cadets or colonels, no matter 
who they were, that asked Billy a favor, they were sure to have it 
done for themj and with such a cheerful ah; as did them more 
good than the service itself So that I much question, whether 
there was a man in all our camp, whose good luck would have 
given more general satisfaction than his. 

On opening Bill's hogshead, which indeed was no hogshead, 
buti'ather a puncheon, as big as two hogsheads, there was a pro- 
digious stare among our men at the sight of so much wealth. 100 
strong white shirts for soldiers, 50 fine white shirts for officers, 50 
camp blankets, 100 black stocks, 100 knapsacks, and 6 dragoon's 
cloaks, were the valuable contents of Billy's cask. The native 
genius of the poor fellow instantly broke out in a stream of gener- 
ous actions, which never stopped, until the hogshead was com- 
pletely emptied. First of all, he began with me, to whom he 
presented half a dozen of the fine shirts and black stocks, with a 
dragoon's cloak. Then to the general he made a present, also to 
the officers of his family. To his fellow servants, who messed 
with him, he gave two shirts a-piece. But what pleased me most 
in Billy's donations, was his generosity to the two men who had 
miscarried in their attempt on the same cask. Seeing that they 
were much mortified at their own failure, and a little perhaps at 
his success, he desired them to come and help themselves to what 
they liked. Hearing him then express a wish that he knew what 
to do with the balance, I told him that many of our dragoons were 
poor men, and much in want of shirts. '■^Aye, sure enough,'''' said 
he, and immediately handed them out a shirt a-piece, until all were 
gone. 

For this generosity of Billyh general Marion dubbed him"cap- 
tain Billy," a name which he went by ever afterwards. Nothing 
was ever more seasonable than this supply, purchased by Billy's 
valor; for before that, we were all as ragged as young rooks. — 
There was not an officer in camp, except colonel Lee and his 
staff", who was so rich as to own two shirts. I am very sure that 
Marion's aids had but one a-piece. • And yet so independent of 
weahh is cheerfulness, that I have often seen our officers in their 



FRANCIS MARION. 325 

naked buffs, near a branch, singing and dancing around their shirts, 
which they had just washed, and hung on the bushes to dry. 

From the reduction of fort Watson, we set out immediately in 
high spirits, for the still nobler attack on fort Motte. For the sake 
of fine air and water, and handsome accommodations, the British 
had erected this fort in the yard of Mrs. Motte's elegant new 
house, which was nearly enclosed in their works. But alas! so 
little do poor mortals know what they are about! the fine house, 
which they had rudely taken from poor Mrs. Motte, proved to the 
British, what his gay shirt did to Hercules. It wrought their 
downfall. For, after a fierce contest, in which many valuable 
lives were lost on both sides, through the sharpshooters of the 
yaugers, and the still closer cutting of our riflemen, it struck Ma- 
rion that he could quickly drive the enemy out of the fort, by 
setting the house on fire. But poor Mrs. Motte! a lone widow, 
whose plantation had been so long ravaged by the war, herself 
turned into a log cabin, her negroes dispersed, and her stock, 
grain, &:-c. nearly all ruined ! must she now lose her elegant build- 
ings too? Such scruples were honorable to the general ; but they 
showed his total unacquaintodness Avith the excellent widow. — 
For at the first glimpse of the proposition, she exclaimed, "O ! burn 
it! burn it, general Marion! God forbid I should bestow a single 
thought on my little concerns, when the independence of my coun- 
try is at stake. — No, sir, if it were a palace it should go." She 
then stepped to her closet and brought out a curious bow with a 
quiver of arrows, which a poor African boy, purchased from on 
board a Guineaman, had formerly presented her, and said, "Here, 
general, here is what will serve jour purpose to a hair.'" The 
arrows, pointed with iron, and charged with lighted combustibles, 
were shot on top of the house, to which they stuck, and quickly 
communicated the flames. The British, two hundred in number, 
besides a good many tories, instantly hung out a white flag in sign 
of submission. 

The excellent Mrs. Motte was present when her fine new house, 
supposed to be worth six thousand dollars, took fire ; and without 
a sigh, beheld the red spiry billows prevailing over all its gran- 
deur. 

The reader may form some idea of general Marion, from the 



326 FRANCIS MAKION. 

following anecdote, which was related to me by the honorable 
Benjamin Hugar, Esq. 

During the furious contests in South Carolina, between the 
British and the Americans, it was very common for men of pro- 
perty to play jack of both sides, for the sake of saving their ne- 
groes and cattle. — Among these, a pretty numerous crew, was a 
wealthy old blade, who had the advantage of one of those very 
accommodating faces, that could shine with equal lustre on his 
victorious visitants, whether Britons or buckskins. Marion soon 
found him out; and as soon gave him a broad hint how heartily 
he despised such trimming; for at a great public meeting where 
the old gentleman, with a smirking face, came up and presented 
his hand, Marion turned from him without deigning to receive it. 
Every body was surprised at this conduct of the general, and 
some spoke of it in terms of high displeasure. However, it was 
not long before they caught the old Aveathercock at one of his tricks, 
and, soon as the confiscation act was passed, had him down on the 
blacklist, fondly hoping, nodoubt^ to divide a large spoil. Mari- 
on, who was then a member of the legislature, arose to speak. — 
The aged culprit, who also was present, turned pale and trembled 
at the sightof Marion, giving up all for lost. — But how great, how 
agreeable was his surprise, when, instead of hearing the general 
thundering against him for judgment, he heard him imploring for 
mercy! His accusers were, if possible, still more astonished. — 
Having counted on general Marion as his firmest foe, they were 
utterly mortified to find him his fastest friend, and, venting their 
passion with great freedom, taxed him with inconsistency and 
fickleness that but illy suited with general Marion's character. 

"It is scarcely eighteen months, sir," said they, "since you 
treated this old rascal with the most pointed and public contempt 
on account of the very crime for which we wish to punish him. 
And here, now, instead of taking part against him, you have de- 
clared in his favor, and have become his warmest advocate with a 
legislature." 

"True, gentlemen," replied Marion, "but you should remember 
that it was war then; and therefore my duty to make a difference 
between the real and pretended friends of my country. But it is 
2)eace now, and we ought to remember the virtues of men, parti- 



FRANCIS MARION. 327 

cularly of the old and timid, rather than their follies. And we 
ought to remember too, that God has given us the victory, for 
which we owe him eternal gratitude. But cruelty to man is not 
the way to show our gratitude to heaven." 

Of the same complexion was his behaviour in a large party at 
governor Matthew's table, just after the passage of the famous act 
to confiscate the estates of the tories. '■'■Come, general, give us a 
toast,^'' said the governor. The glasses were all filled, and the 
eyes of the company fixed upon the general, who, waving hi& 
bumper in the air, thus nobly called out — '^ Well, gentlemen, here's 
damnation to the confiscation act^ 

The following anecdote of Marion I have heard from a thousand 
lips, and every time with that joy on the countenance, which 
evinced the deep interest which the heart takes in talking of things 
that are honorable to our countrymen. 

While Marion was a member of the legislature, a petition was 
presented to the house for an act of amnesty of all those arbitrary 
measures which the American officers had been obliged to adopt 
during the war, in order to get horses, provisions, dtc. for the ar- 
my. The petition was signed by the names of all the favorite 
officers of the state, and among the rest, by that of our hero. — 
Some of his friends, it seemed, had done it for him, on the suppo- 
sition that he needed such an act as well as the rest. But Marion, 
who had listened very attentively to the reading of the petition, on 
hearing his name mentioned as one of the subscribers, instantly 
arose, and insisted that his name should be struck off from that 
paper. He said "he had no manner of objection to the petition ; 
on the contrary, he most heartily approved of it, and meant to vote 
for it; for well did he know, he said, that during the war, we liad 
among us a world of ignoramuses, who, for lack of knowing their 
danger, did not care a fig how the war went, but were sauntering 
about in the woods, popping at the squirrels, when they ought to 
liave been in the field fighting the British: that such gentlemen, 
since they did not choose to do any thing for their country them- 
selves, might well afford to let their cattle do something; and as 
they had not shed any of their blood for the public service, they 
might certainly spare a little corn to it : at any rate he had no no- 
■tion, he said; of turning over to the mercy of these poltroons, some 



328 FRANCIS MARION. 

of the choicest spirits of the nation, to be prosecuted and torn to 
pieces by them ; but that, nevertheless, he did not like to have his 
name to the petition, for thank God, he had no favors to ask of 
them. And if, during the war for his country, he had done any 
of them harm, there was he, and yonder his property, and let thevi 
come forxcard, if they dare, and demand satisfaction?'' 

Colonel Peter Horry, in his life of general Marion, gives the 
following interesting incident : "-About this time we received a 
flag from the enemy in Georgetown, South Carolina, the object of 
which was to make some arrangements about the exchange of 
prisoners. The flag, after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, was 
conducted into Marion's encampment. Having heard great talk 
about general Marion, his fancy had naturally enough sketched 
out for him some stout figure of a warrior, such as O'Hara, or 
Coruwallis himself, of martial aspect and flaming regimentals. — 
But what was his surprise when, led into Marion's presence, and 
the bandage taken from his eyes, he beheld in our hero a swarthy, 
smoke-dried little man, with scare ely enough of thread-bare home- 
spun to cover his nakedness; and instead of tall ranks of gay- 
dressed soldiers, a handful of sun-burnt, yellow-legged militia- 
men ; some roasting potatoes, and some asleep, with their black 
flre-locks and powder-horns lying by them on the logs. Having 
recovered a little from his surprise, he presented his letter to gen- 
eral Marion, who perused it, and soon settled every thing to his 

satisfaction. 

The officer took up his hat to retire. "Oh no!" said Marion; 

"it is now about our time of dining, and I hope, sir, you will give 

us the pleasure of your company to dinner. 

At the mention of the word dinner, the British officer looked 

around him, but to his great mortification could see no sign of a 

pot, pan, or Dutch oven, or any other cooking utensil that could 

raise the spirits of a hungry man. 

"Well, Tom," said the general to one of his men, "come, give 

us our dinner." 

The dinner to which he alluded, was no other than a heap of 

sweet potatoes that were very snugly roasting under the embers, 

and which Tom with his pine stick poker soon liberated from their 

ashy confinement, pinching them ev«ry now and then with his 



FRANCIS MARION, 329 

fingers, especially the big ones, to see whether they were well 
done or not. Then, having cleansed them of the ashes, partly by 
blowing them with his breath, and partly by brushing them with 
the sleeve of his old cotton shirt, he piled some of the best on a 
large piece of bark, and placed them between the British officer 
and Marion, on the trunk of the fallen pine on which they sat. 

"I fear, sir," said the general, "our dinner will not prove so 
palateable to you as I could wish; but it is the best we have." 

Tlie officer, who was a well-bred man, took up one of the pota- 
toes, and affected to feed as if he had found a great dainty; but it 
was very plain that he ate more from good manners than good 
appetite. Presently he broke out into a hearty laugh. Marion 
looked surprised. "I beg pardon, general," said he ; "but one 
cannot, you know, always command one's conceits. I was think- 
ing how drolly some of my brother officers would look, if our gov- 
ernment were to give them such a bill of fare as this." 

"I suppose," said Marion, "it is not equal to their style of dining." 
"No, indeed," quoth the officer; "and this, I imagine, is one of 
your accidental lent dinners : a sort of ban-yan. In general, no 
doubt, you live a great deal better." 

"Rather worse," replied the general ; "for often we don't get 
enough of this." 

"Heavens!" rejoined the officer; "but probably what you lose 
in meat, you make up in malt : though stinted in provisions, you 
draw noble pay." 

"Not a cent, sir," said Marion; "not a cent." 
"Heavens and earth! then you must be in a bad box. I don't 
see, general, how you can stand it." 

"Why, sir," replied Marion, with a smile of self-approbation, 
"these things depend on feeling." 

The Englishman said, "he did not believe it would be an easy 
matter to reconcile his feelings to a soldier's life on general IMa- 
rion's terms; all fighting, no pay, and no provisions but potatoes." 
"Why, sir," answered the general, "the heart is all ; and when 
that is once interested, a man can do any thing. Many a youth 
would think hard to indent himself a slave for fourteen years. 
But let him be over head and ears in love, and with such a beau- 
teous sweetheart as Rachel, and he will think no more of fourteen 
29 



330 rsAXCis marion 

years' servitude than young Jacob did. Well, now this is exactly 
iny case. I am in love; and my sweetheart is Liberty. Be that 
heavenly nymph my companion, and these woods shall have charms 
beyond London and Paris in slavery. To have no proud monarch 
driving over me with his gilt coaches; nor his host of excisemen 
and tax-gatherers insulting and robbing; but to be my own master, 
ray own prince and sovereign; gloriously preserving my natural 
dignity, and pursuing my true happiness; planting my vineyards, 
and eating my luscious fruits; sowing my fields , and reaping the 
golden gi-ain; and seeing millions around me, equally free and 
happy as myself — this, sir, is what I long for." 

The officer replied, that both as a man and a Briton, he must 
certainly subscribe to this as a happy state of things. 

"Happy," quoth Marion ; "yes happy indeed : and I would ra- 
ther fight for such blessings for my country, and feed on roots^ 
than keep aloof, though wallowing in all the luxuries of Solomon. 
For now, sir, I walk the soil that gave me birth, and exult in the 
thought that I am not unworthy of it. I look upon these venerable 
trees around me, and feel that I do not dishonor them. I think 
of my own sacred rights, and rejoice that I have not basely de- 
serted them. And when I look forward to the long, long ages of 
posterity, I glory in the thought that I am fighting their battles. — 
The children of distant generations may never hear my name; 
but still it gladdens my heart, to think that I am contending for 
their freedom, with all its countless blessings." 

The Englishman hung his honest head, and looked as if he had 
seen the upbraiding ghosts of his illustrious countrymen, Sydney 
and Hampden. On his return to Georgetown, he was asked by 
colonel Watson why he looked so serious. "I have cause, sir,'' 
said he, "to look serious." "What! has general Marion refused 
to treat?" ^'No, sir," "Well, then, has old Washington defeated 
Sir Henry Clinton, and broke up our army ?" "No, sir, not that 
neither; but worse." "Ah! what can be worse?" "Why, sir, I 
have seen an American general and his officers, without pay, and 
almost without clothes, living on roots, and drinking water ; and 
all for Liberty] What chance have we against such men?" 

It is said colonel Watson was not much obliged to him for this 
jspeech. But the young officer was so struck with Marion's sen- 



FRA>'CIS BURIOX. 331 

timents, that he never rested until he threw up his commission, 
and retired from the service. 

Genei-al Marion, whose stature was diminutive, and his person 
uncommonly light, rode, when in service, one of the fleetest and 
most powerful chargers the south could produce. When in fair 
pursuit, nothing could escape him, and when retreating, nothing 
could overtake him. Being once nearly surrounded by a party of 
British dragoons, he was compelled to pass into a cornfield by 
leaping the fence. This field, marked with a considerable descent 
of surface, had been in part a marsh. IMarion entered it at the 
upper side. The dragoons in chase leaped the fence also, and 
were but a short distance behind him. So completely was he 
now in their power, that his only mode of escape was to pass over 
the fence on the lower side. But here lay a difficulty which to 
all but himself appeared insurmountable. 

To drain the ground of its superfluous waters, a trench had 
been cut around this part of the field, four feet Avide, and of the 
same depth. Of the mud and clay removed in cutting it, a bank 
had been formed on its inner side, and on the top of this was erected 
the fence. The elevation of the whole amounted to more than 
seven ket perpendicular height ; a ditch four feet in width, running 
parallel with it on the outside, and a foot or more of space infeven- 
ing between the fence and the ditch. 

The dragoons, acquainted with the nature and extent of this 
obstacle, and considering it impossible for their enemy to pass 
it, pressed towards him with loud shouts of exultation and insult, 
and summoned him to surrender or perish by the sword. Regard- 
less of their rudeness and empty clamor, and inflexibly deter- 
mined not to become their prisoner, Marion spurred his horse to 
the charge. The noble animal, as if conscious that his master's 
life was in danger, and that on his exertion depended his safety, 
approached the baiTier in his finest style, and with a bound that 
was almost supernatural, cleared the fence and the ditch, and re- 
covered himself without injury on the opposite side. 

Marion now facing his pursuers, who had halted at the fence, 
unable to pass it, discharged his pistols at them without effect, and 
then wheeling his horse, and bidding them "good morning," wilh 



332 WILLIAM JASPER. 

an air of triumph, dashed into an adjoining thicket and disap- 
peared in an instant. ■« 

General Marion was a native of South Carolina; and the imme- 
diate theatre of his exploits was a large section of the maritime 
district of that state around Georgetown. The peculiar hardihood 
of his constitution, and its being accommodated to a warm climate 
and a low marshy country, qualified him to endure hardships, and 
submit to exposures, which, in that sickly region, few other men 
would have been competent to sustain. He continued his undi- 
vided efforts until the close of the war, and lived to see the United 
States enrolled among the free and independent nations of the 
earth. 



ANECDOTE OF SERGEANT JASPER. 
From Horry's Life "of Marion. 

In the spring of 1779, Marion and myself were sent with our 
commands, to Purysburgh, to reinforce general Lincoln, who was 
there on his way to attack the British in Savannah, which a few 
months before had fallen into their hands. As the count D'Es- 
taing, who was expected to co-operate in this affair, had not yet 
arrived, general Lincoln thought it advisable to entrench and wait 
for him. 

While we were lying at Purysburg, a 4ouple of young men of 
our regiment achieved an act of generosity and courage, which, 
in former days, would have laid the ground-work of a heroic ro- 
mance. One of the actors in this extraordinary play was the 
brave sergeant Jasper, whose name will forever be dear to the 
friends of American liberty. 

Jasper had a brother who had joined the British, and held the 
rank of sergeant in their garrison at Ebenezer. Never man was 
truer to his country than Jasper, yet was his heart so warm that 
he loved his brother, though a tory, and actually went over to see 
him. His brother was exceedingly alarmed at sight of him, lest 
he should be seized and hung up at once as a spy, for his name 
was well known to many of the British officers. But Jasper beg- 
ged him not to give himself much trouble on that head, for, said 
he, "I am no longer an American soldier." 

"Well, thank God for that, William," replied his brother, giving 



.\VtlHSAM JASPER. 333 

him a hearty shake by the hand — "and noio only sa^ the word 
my boy, and here is a commission for you, icith regimentals and 
gold to hoot, to fight for his majesty.'''' 

Jasper shook his head and observed, that though there was but 
little encouragement to fight for his country, yet he could not find 
in his heart to fight against her. And there the conversation ended. 
After staying vi'ith his brother some two or three days, inspect- 
ing and hearing all that he could, he took his leave, and by around 
about, returned to camp, and told general Lincoln all that he had 
seen. 

Having wasted several weeks longer of tiresome idleness, and 
no news of the French fleet, Jasper took it into his head to make 
another trip to Ebenezer. 

On this occasion he did not, as before, go alone, but took with 
him his particular friend, sergeant Newton, son of an old baptist 
preacher, and a young fellow, for strength and courage, just about 
a good match for Jasper himself. 

He was received as usual, with great cordiality by his brother, 
to whom he introduced his friend Newton, and spent several days 
in the British fort, without giving the least alarm. On the morn- 
ing of the third day his brother had some bad neivs to tell him. 
"Aye! ichat is it?''"' he asked, "what is it?''"' 
"Why," replied his brother, "here are some ten or a dozen A- 
merican prisoners, brought in this morning, as deserters from Sa- 
vannah, whither they are to be sent immediately. And from what 
I can learn, it will be apt to go hard with them, for it seems they 
have all taken the king's bounty." 
"Lefssee ''em,'''* said Jasper, "Let''ssee''em.''' 
So his brother took him and Newton to see them. And indeed 
it was a mournful sight to behold them, where they sat, poor fel- 
lows ! all hand-cuffed, on the ground. But all pity of them was 
forgot, soon as the eye was turned to a far more doleful sight hard 
by, which was a young woman, wife of one of the prisoners, with 
her child, a sweet little boy of about five years old. The name 
of this lady was Jones. Her humble garb showed her to be poor, 
but her deep distress, and sympathy with her unfortunate husband, 
showed that she was rich in that pure conjugal love, that is more 
precious than all gold. 

29* 



334 WILLIAM JASPER. 

She generally sat on the ground opposite to her husband, with 
lier little boy leaning on her lap, and her coal black hair spread- 
ing in long neglected tresses on her neck and bosom. And thus 
in silence she sat, a statue of grief, sometimes with her eyes hard 
fixed upon the earth, like one lost in thought, sighing and groaning 
the while as if her heart would burst — then starting, as from a 
reverie, she would dart her eager eyes, red with weeping, on her 
husband's face, and there would gaze, with looks so piercing sad, 
as though she saw him struggling in the halter, herself a widow, 
and her son an orphan. Straight her frame would begin to shake 
with the rising agony, and her face to change and swell; then with 
eyes swimming in tears, she would look around upon us all, for 
pity and for help, with cries sufficient to melt the heart of a demon. 
While the child seeing his father's hands fast bound, and his mother 
weeping, added to the distressing scene, by his artless cries and 
tears. 

The brave are always tender-hearted. It was so with Jasper 
and Newton, two of the most undaunted spirits that ever lived.-— 
They walked out in the neighboring wood. The tear was in the 
eye of both. Jasper first broke silence. "Newton," said he, "my 
days have been but few ; buti believe their course is nearly done." 
"Why so, Jasper?" 

"Why, I feel," said he, "that I must rescue these poor prisoners, 
or die with them ; otherwise that woman and her child will haunt 
me to my grave." 

"Why, that is exactly what I feel too," replied Newton — "and 
here is my hand and heart to stand by you, my brave friend, to 
the last drop. Thank God, a man can die but once, and there is 
not so much in this life that a man need be afraid to leave it, es- 
pecially when he is in the way of his duty." 

The two friends then embraced with great cordiality, while 
each read in the other's countenance, that immortal fire which 
beams from the eyes of the brave, when resolved to die or conquer 
in some glorious cause. 

Immediately after breakfast, the prisoners were sent on for Sa- 
vannah, under a guard of a sergeant and corporal with eight men. 
They had not been gone long, before Jasper, accompanied by his 
friend Newton, took leave of his brother, and set out on some er- 



WILLIAM JASPER. 33 5 

rand to the upper country. They had scarcely, however, got out 
of sight of Ebenezer, before they struck into the piny woods, 
and pushed hard after the prisoners and their guard, whom they 
closely dogged for several miles, anxiously watching an opportu- 
nity to make a blow. But alas! all hopes of that sort seemed ut- 
terly extravagant; for what could give two men a chance to con- 
tend against ten, especially when there was found no weapon in 
the hand of the two, while the ten, each man was armed with his 
loaded musket and bayonet. But unable to give up their country- 
men, our heroes still followed on. 

About two miles fi-om Savannah there is a famous spring, gen- 
erally called the Spa, well known to travellers, who often turn in 
to quench their thirst. "Perhaps," said Jasper, "the guard may 
stop there." Then hastening on by a near cut through the woods, 
they gained the Spa as their last hope, and there concealed them- 
selves among the bushes that grew abundantly round the spring. 

Presently the mournful procession came in sight, headed by the 
sergeant, who, on coming opposite to the spring, ordered a halt, 
Hope sprung up afresh in our heroes' bosoms, strongly throbbing 
too, no doubt, with great alarms, for it was a fearful odds. The 
corporal, with his guard of four men, conducted the prisoners to 
the spring, while the sergeant with the other four, having grounded 
their arms near the road, brought up the rear. The prisoners, 
wearied with their long walk, were permitted to rest themselves 
on the earth. Poor Mrs. Jones, as usual, took her seat opposite to 
her husband^ and her little boy, overcome with fatigue, fell asleep 
in her lap. Two of the corporal's men were ordered to keep guard, 
and the other two to give the prisoners drink out of thejr canteens . 
These last approached the spring where our heroes lay concealed, 
and resting their muskets against a pine tree, dipped up water, 
and having drank themselves, turned away, with replenished can- 
teens, to give the prisoners drink also. "Now, Newton, is our 
time," said Jasper. Then bursting, like two lions, from their 
concealment, they snatched up the two muskets that were rested 
against the pine, and in an instant shot down the two soldiers that 
kept guard. And now the question was, who should first get the 
two loaded muskets that had just fallen from the hands of the slain. 
For by this time the sergeant and corporal, a couple of brave En- 



336 WILLIAM JASPER. 

glishmen, recovering from their momentary panic, had sprung 
and seized upon the muskets; but before they could use them, the 
strong swift-handed Americans, with clubbed guns, levelled each 
at the head of his brave antagonist, the final blow. The tender 
bones of the skull gave way beneath the furious strokes, and with 
wide scattered blood and brains down they sunk, pale and quiver- 
ing, to the earth, without a groan. Then snatching up the guns 
which had thus, a second time, fallen from the hands of the slain, 
they flew between the surviving enemy, and ordered them to 
surrender, which they instantly did. 

Having called the prisoners to them, they quickly, with the 
point of their bayonets, broke off their hand-cufis, and gave each 
of them a musket. 

At the commencement of the fray, poor Mrs. Jones, half fright- 
ened to death, had fallen to the ground in a swoon, with her little 
son piteously screaming over her. But, when she came to her- 
self, and saw her husband and friends around her, all freed from 
their fetters and well armed, she looked and behaved like one 
frantic with joy. ' She sprung to her husband's bosom, and with 
her arms around his neck sobbed out, "Oh bless God ! bless God ! 
my husband is safe ; my husband is not hung yet :" then snatching 
up her child, and straining him to her soul, as if she would have 
pressed him to death, she cried out, "Oh praise ! praise ! praise 
God forever! my son has a father yet!" Then wildly darting 
round her eyes in quest of her deliverers, she exclaimed, "where' 
where are those blessed angels that God sent to save my hus- 
band?" Directing her eyes to Jasper and Newton, where they 
stood like two youthful Sampsons, she ran and fell on her knees 
before them, and seizing their hands, kissed and pressed them to 
her bosom, crying out vehemently, "Dear angels ! dear angels ! 
God bless you ! God Almighty bless you for ever !" 

Then instantly, for fear of being overtaken by the enemy, our 
heroes snatched the arms and regimentals of the slain, and with 
their friends and captive foes, recrossed the Savannah, and in 
safety rejoined our army at Purysburgh, to the inexpressible 
astonishment and joy of us all. 



PART II. 

BIOGRAPHY OF FOREIGN OFFICERS IN THE AMER- 
ICAN SERVICE. 



GILBERT MOTIER LAFAYETTE, 
Major-General in the American Continental Army. 
The family of General Lafayette, has long been distinguished 
in the history of France. As early as 1422, the Marshal de La- 
fayette, defeated and killed the Duke of Clarence at Beauge, and 
thus saved his country from falling entirely into the power of Hen- 
ry Fifth, of England. His father fell in the battle of Munden, and 
therefore survived the birth of his son only two years. These, 
with many more memorials of his family, scattered through the 
different portions of French history for nearly five centuries, arc 
titles to distinction, which it is particularly pleasant to recollect, 
when they fall, as they now do, on one so singularly fitted to re- 
ceive and increase them. 

General Lafayette himself was born in Auvergne, in the south 
of France, on the 6th of September, 1757. When quite young, 
he was sent to the College of Du Plessis at Paris, where he receiv- 
ed that classical education, of which, when recently at Cambridge, 
he twice gave remarkable proof in uncommonly happy quotations 
from Cicero, suited to circumstances that could not have been fore- 
seen. Somewhat later, he was sent to Versailles, where the court 
constantly resided; and there his education was still further con- 
tinued, and he was made, in common with most of the young noble- 
men, an officer in the army. When only between sixteen and 
seventeen, he was married to the daughter of the Duke d'Ayen, 
son of the Duke de Noailles, and. grand son to the great and good 
Chancellor d'Aguesseau; and thus his condition in life seemed to 
be assured to him among the most splendid and powerful in the em- 
pire. His fortune which had been accumulating during along minor- 
ity, was vast : his rank was with the first in Europe ; his connexions 
brought him the support of the chief persons in France ; and his 
individual character, the warm, open, and sincere manners, which 
have distinguished him ever since, and given him such singular 



338 LAFAYETTE 

control over the minds of men, made him powerful in the confidence 
of society wherever he Avent. 

It was at this period, however, that his thoughts and feelings 
were first turned towards these thirteen colonies, then in the dark- 
est and most doubtful passage of their struggle for independence. 
He made himself acquainted with our agents at Paris, and learned 
from them the state of our affairs. Nothing could be less tempt- 
ing to hirn, whether he sought military reputation or military in- 
struction, for our army at that moment retreating through New- 
Jersey, and leaving its traces in blood from the naked and torn 
feet of the soldiery as it hastened onward, was in a state too hum- 
ble to ofler either. Our credit, too, in Europe, was entirely gone, 
so that the commissioners, as they were called, without having any 
commission, to whom Lafayette still persisted in offering his ser- 
vices, were obliged at last, to acknowledge that they could not 
even give him decent means for his conveyance. "Then," said 
he, "I shall purchase and fit out a vessel for myself." He did so. 
The vessel was prepared at Bordeaux, and sent round to one of 
the nearest ports in Spain, that it might be beyond the reach of the 
French government. In order more effectually to conceal his 
purposes, he made, just before his embarkation, a visit of a few 
weeks in England, the only time he was ever there, and was much 
sought in English society. On his return to France, he did not 
stop at all in the capital, even to see his own family, but hastened 
with all speed and secrecy, to make good his escape from the coun- 
try. It was not until he was thus on his way to embark, that this 
romantic undertaking began to be known. 

The effect produced in the capital and at the court by its publi- 
cation, was greater than we should now, perhaps, imagine. Lord 
Stormont, the English ambassador, required the French ministry 
to despatch an order for his ari'est, not only to Bordeaux, but to 
the French commanders on the West India station ; a requisition 
with which the ministry readily complied, for they were at that 
time, anxious to preserve a good understanding with England, and 
were seriously angry with a young man, who had thus put in jeop- 
ardy the relations of the two countries. In fact, at Passage on the 
very borders of France and Spain, a lettre de cachet overtook him, 
and he was arrested and carried back to Bordeaux. There, of 



LAFAYETTE. 339 

course, his enterprise was near being finally stopped ; but watch- 
ing his opportunity, and assisted by one or two friends, he disguised 
himself as a courier, with his face blacked and false hair, and rode 
on, ordering post-horses, for a carriage which he had caused to fol- 
low him at a suitable distance, for this very purpose, and thus 
fairly passed the frontiers of the two kingdoms, only three or four 
hours before his pursuers reached them. He soon arrived at his 
port, where his vessel was waiting for him. His family, however, 
still followed him with solicitations to return, which he never re- 
ceived. 

Immediately on arriving a second time at Passage, the wind be- 
mg fair, he embarked. The usual course for French vessels at- 
tempting to trade with our colonies at that period, was to sail for 
the West Indies, and then coming up along our coast, enter where 
tliey could. But this course would have exposed Lafayette to the 
naval commanders of his own nation, and he had almost as much 
reason to dread them, as to dread British cruisers. When, there- 
fore, they were outside of the Canary Islands, Lafayette required 
his captain to lay their course directly for the United States. The 
captain refused, alleging, that if they should be taken by a British 
force and carried into Halifax, the French government would never 
reclaim them, and they could hope for nothing but a slow death 
in a dungeon or a prison-ship. This was true, but Lafayette knew 
it before he made the requisition. He therefore, insisted, until the 
captain refused in the most positive manner. Lafayette then told 
him that the ship was his own private property, that he had made 
his own arrangements concerning it, and that if he, the captain, 
would not sail directly for the United States, he should be put in 
irons, and his command given to the next officer. The captain of 
course, submitted, and Lafayette gave him a bond for forty thou- 
sand francs, in case of any accident. They, therefore, now made 
sail directly for the southern portion of the United States, and ar- 
rived unmolested at Charleston, South Carolina, on the 25th of 
April, 1777. 

The sensation produced by his appearance in this country, was, 
of course, much greater than that produced in Europe by his de- 
parture. It still stands forth, as one of the most prominent and im- 
portant circumstances in our revolutionary contest; and, as has 



340 LAFAYETTE. 

often been said by one who bore no small part in its trials and suc- 
cess, none but those who were then alive, can believe what an im- 
pulse it gave to the hopes of a population almost disheartened by 
a long series of disasters. And well it might; for it taught us that 
in the first rank of the first nobility in Europe, men could still 
be found, who not only took an interest in our struggle, but were 
willing to share our sufferings ; that our obscure and almost despe- 
rate contest for freedom, in a remote quarter of the world, could 
yet find supporters among those who were the most natural and 
powerful allies of a splendid despotism; that we were the objects 
of regard and interest throughout the world, which would add to 
oar own resources sufficient strength to carry us safely through to 
final success. 

Immediately after his arrival, Lafayette received the offer of a 
command in our army, but declined it. Indeed, during the whole 
of his service with us, he seemed desirous to show, by his conduct, 
that he had come only to render disinterested assistance to our 
cause. He began, therefore, by clothing and equipping a body of 
men at Charleston at his own expense, and then entered, as a vol- 
unteer without pay, into our service. He lived in the family of 
the commander-in-chief, and won his full affection and confidence. 
He was appointed a major-general in our service, by a vote of con- 
gress, on the 31st of July, 1777, and in September of the same 
year, was wounded at Brandy wine. He was employed in 1778, 
in many parts of the country, as a major-general, and as the head 
of a separate division; and after having received the thanks of 
congress for his important services, embarked at Boston, in Janua- 
ry, 1779, for France, thinking he could assist us more effectually, 
for a time, in Europe than in America. 

He arrived at Versailles, then the regular residence of the French 
court, on the 12th of February, and the same day had a long con. 
ference with Maurepas, the prime minister. He was not permitted 
to see the king; and in a letter written at court the next day, we 
are told, that he received an order to visit none but his relations, as 
a form of censure, for having left France without permission ; but 
this was an order that fell very lightly on him, for he was connec- 
ted by birth or marriage, with almost every body at court, and 
every body else thronged to see him at his own hotel. The treaty 



LAFAYETTE. 341 

which was concluded between America and France at just about 
the same period, was by Lafayette's personal exertions, made ef- 
fective in our favor. He labored unremittingly to induce his gov- 
ernment to send us a fleet and troops; and it was not until he had 
gained this point, and ascertained that he should be speedily fol- 
lowed by Count Rochambeau, that he emljarked to return. He 
reachcd'the headquarters of the array on the 11th of May, 1780, 
and there confidentially communicated the important intelligence 
to the commander-in-chief. 

He resumed his place in our service, and received the separate 
command of a body of infantry, consisting of about two thousand 
men, and equipped it partly at his own expense, rendering it by 
unwearied exertions, constant sacrifices and wise discipline, the 
best corps in the army. What he did for us, while at the head of 
this division, is known to all who have read the history of their 
country. His forced march to Virginia, in December, 17S0, rais- 
ing two thousand guineas at Baltimore, on his own credit, to sup- 
ply the pressing wants of his troops; his rescue of Richmond, 
which, but for his great exertions must have fallen into the ene- 
my's hands; his long trial of generalship with Cornwallis, who 
foolishly boasted, in an intercepted letter, that "the boy could not 
escape him;" and finally the siege of Yorktown, the storming of 
the redoubt, and the surrender of the place in October, 1781, are 
proofs of talent as a militar)'^ commander and devotion to the wel- 
fare of these states, for which he never has been repaid, and, in 
some respects, never can be. 

He was, however, desirous to make yet greater exertions in our 
favor, and announced his project of revisiting France for the pur- 
pose. Congress had already repeatedly acknowledged his merits 
and services in formal votes. They now acknowledged them 
more formally than ever by a resolution of November 2.3d, in 
which, besides all other expressions of approbation, they desire 
the foreign ministers of this government to confer with him in their 
negotiations concerning our affairs; a mark of respect and defer- 
ence of which we know no other example. 

In France, a brilliant reputation had preceded him. The cause 
of America was already popular there ; and his exertions and sacri- 
fices in it, which, from the first, had seemed so chivalrous and roman- 
30 



342 LAfAYETTE. 

tic, now came reflected back upon him, in the strong light of popular 
enthusiasm. While he was in the United States for the first time, 
Voltaire made his remarkable visit to Paris, and having met mad- 
ame de Lafayette at the Hotel de Choiseuil, he made her a long 
harangue on the brilliant destinies that awaited her husband as a 
defender of the great cause of popular freedom ; and ended by 
offering his homage to her on his knees. 

It is not remarkable, therefore, with such a state of feeling while 
he was still absent from the country, that on his return he was fol- 
lowed by crowds in the public streets wherever he went; and that 
i^a journey he made to one of his estates in the south of France, 
the towns through which he passed, received him with processions 
and civic honors; and that in the city of Orleans, he was detained 
nearly a week by the festivities they had prepared for him. 

He did not, however, forget our interests amidst the popular ad- 
miration with which he was surrounded. On the contrary, though 
the negotiations for a peace were advancing, he was constantly 
urging upon the French government the policy of sending more 
troops to this country, as the surest means of bringing the war to 
a speedy and favorable termination. He at last succeeded ; and 
count d'Estaing was ordered to hold himself in readiness to sail for 
the United States as soon as Lafayette should join him. When, 
therefore, he arrived at Cadiz, he found forty -nine ships and twenty 
thousand men ready to follow him, first for the conquest of Jamaica, 
and then for our assistance ; and they would have been on our 
coast early in the spring, if peace had not rendered further ex- 
ertions unnecessary. This great event was first announced to 
congress, by a letter from Lafayette, dated in the harbor of Cadiz, 
February 5, 1783. 

As soon as tranquility was restored, Lafayette began to receive 
pressing invitations to visit the country, whose cause he had so 
materially assisted. Washington, in particular, was extremely 
urgent; and yielding not only to these instances, but to an attach- 
ment to the United States, of which his whole life has given proof, 
he embarked again for our shores, and landed at New- York, on the 
4th of August, 1784. His visit, however, was short. He went 
almost immediately to Mount Vernon, where he passed a few days, 
m the family of which he was so long a cherished member, and 



LAFAYETTE. 343 

then visiting Annapolis, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New-York, Alba- 
ny, and Boston, received every where with unmingled enthusiasm 
and delight, he re-embarked for France. But when he was thus 
about to leave the United States for the third, and, as it then seemed, 
the last time, congress, in December, 1784, appointed a solemn 
deputation, consisting for its greater dignity, of one member from 
each state, with instructions to take leave of him on behalf of the 
whole country, and to assure him, "that these United States regard 
him with peculiar affection, and will not cease to feel an interest 
in whatever may concern his honor and prosperity, and that their 
best and kindest wishes will always attend him." It was at the 
same time resolved, that a letter be written to his most christian 
majesty, expressive of the high sense which the United States in 
congress assembled, entertain of the zeal, talents, and meritorious 
services of the marquis de Lafayette, and recommending him to 
the favor and patronage of his majesty. We are not aware, that 
a more complete expression of dignified and respectful homage 
could have been offered to him. 

During the year that followed tlie arrival of Lafayette in his 
own country, he found the minds of men more agitated on questions 
of political right than they had ever been before. He went, for 
a short time, in 1785, to Prussia, for the purpose of seeing the troops 
of Frederick second, and was received with distinguished kindness 
and consideration by that remarkable monarch; at whose courtyby 
U singular coincidence of circumstances, he frequently met with 
lord Cornwallis, and several other officers who had fought against 
him in the campaign that ended at Yorktown. But the grave and 
perilous discussions that were then going on in France, soon cal- 
led him back from Prussia. Into some of those discussions, he en- 
tered at once; on others he waited; but on all, his opinions were 
openly and freely known, and on all, he preserved the most per- 
fect consistency. He was for some time ineffectually employed 
with Malesherbes, the minister of Louis sixteenth, in endeavor- 
ing to relieve the protestants of France from pt)litical disabilities, 
and place them on the same footing with other subjects. He was 
the first Frenchman who raised his voice against the slave trade ; 
and it is worth notice, that having devoted considerable sums of 
money to purchase slaves in one of the colonies, and educate them 



344 LAFAYETTE. 

for emancipation, the faction, which in 1792, proscribed him as an 
enemy to freedom, sold these very slaves back to their original 
servitude. And finally, at about the same time, he attempted with 
our minister, Mr. Jefferson, to form a league of some of the Eu- 
ropean powers against the Barbaresque pirates, which, if it had 
succeeded, would have done more for their suppression than has 
been done by Sir Sidney Smith's association, or is likely to follow 
lord Kxmouth's victories. 

But while he was busied in the interests, to which these discus- 
sions gave rise, the materials for great internal changes were col- 
lecting together at Paris, from all parts of France ; and in February, 
1787, the assembly of the notables was opened. Lafayette was, 
of course, a member, and the tone he held throughout its session, 
contributed essentially to give a marked character to its delibera- 
tions. He proposed the suppression of the odious lettres de cachet, 
of which Mirabeau declared in the national assembly, that seven- 
teen had been issued against him before he was thirty years old ; 
he proposed the enfmnchisementof the protestants, who, from the 
time of the abolition of the edict of Nantz, had been suffering un- 
der more degrading disabilities than the catholics now are in Ire- 
land, and he proposed by a formal motion, — which was the first 
time that word was ever used in France, and marks and important 
step towards a regular deliberative assembly, — he made a motion 
for the convocation of representatives of the people. "What," 
said the count d'Artois, now Charles tenth, who presided in the as- 
sembly of the notables, "do you ask for the states general ?" "Yes," 
replied Lafayette, "and for something more and better;" an inti- 
mation, which, though it can be readily understood by all who have 
lived under a representative government, was hardly intelligible 
in France at that time. 

Lafayette was also a prominent member of the states general, 
which met in 1789, and assumed the name of the national assem- 
bly. He proposed in this body a declaration of rights, not unlike 
our own, and it was under his influence, and while he was, for this 
very purpose, in the chair, that a decree was passed, on the night 
of the 13th and 14th of July, at the moment the Bastile was falling 
before the cannon of the populace, which provided for the respon- 
sibility of ministers, and thus furnished one of the most important 



LAFAYETTE. 345 

elements of a representative monarchy. Two clays afterwards, 
he was appointed commander-in-chief of the national guards at 
Paris, and thus was placed at the head of what was intended to 
be made, when it should be carried into all the departments, the 
effective military power of the realm, and what, under his wise 
management, soon became such. 

His great military command, and still greater influence, now- 
brought him constantly in contact with the court and the throne. 
His position, therefore, w^as extremely delicate and difficult, espe- 
cially as the popular party in Paris, of which he was not so much 
the head as the idol, was already in a state of perilous excitement 
and attrocious violences were beginning to be committed. The 
abhorrence of the queen was almost universal, and was qxces. 
sive to a degree of which we can now have no just idea. The 
circumstance that the court lived at Versailles, sixteen miles from 
Paris, and that the session of the national assembly, was held there, 
was another source of jealousy, irritation, and hatred on the part 
of the capital. The people of Paris, therefore, as a sign of oppo- 
sition, had mounted their municipal cockade of blue andred, whose 
effects were already becoming alarming. Lafayette, who was 
anxious about the consequences of such a marked division, and 
who knew how important are small means of conciliation, added 
to it, on the 26th of July, the white of the royal cockade, and as he 
placed it on his own hat, amidst the acclamations of the multitude, 
prophesied, that it "would go round the world ;" a prediction which 
is already more than half accomplished, since the tri-colored cock- 
ade has been used for the ensign of emancipation in Spain, in Na- 
ples, in some parts of South America, and in Greece. 

Still, however, the tendency of every thing was to confusion and 
violence. The troubles of the times, too, rather than the want of 
the means of subsistence, had brought on a famine in the capital ; 
and the populace of the Fauxbourgs, the most degraded certainly 
in France, having assembled and armed tliemselves, determined to 
go to Versailles ; the greater part, with a blind desire for vengeance 
on the royal family, but others only with the purpose of bringing 
the king from Versailles, and forcing him to reside in the more 
ancient but scarcely habitable palace of the Thuilleries, in the 
midst of Pari.s. The national guards clamored to accompany this 
30* 



346 LAFAYETTE. 

savage multitude; Lafayette opposed their inclination; the mtinj^ 
cipality of Paris hesitated, but supported it ; he resisted nearly the 
whole of the 5th of October, while the road to Versailles was al- 
ready thronged with an exasperated mob of above an hundred 
thousand ferocious men and women, until, at last, finding the mul- 
titude were armed, and even had cannon, he asked and received 
an order to march, from the competent authority, and set off at 
four o'clock in the afternoon, as one going to a post of imminent 
danger, which it had clearly become his duty to occupy. 

He arrived at Versailles at ten o'clock at night, after having 
been on horseback from before daylight in the morning, and hav- 
ing made, during the whole interval, both at Paris and on the road,, 
incredible exertions to control the multitude and calm the soldiers . 
"The marquis de Lafayette at last entered the chateau," says 
madame de Stael, and passing through the apartment where we 
were, went to the king. We all pressed round him^as if he were 
the master of events, and yet the popular party was already more 
powerful than its chief, and principles were yielding to faction^,, 
or rather, were beginning to serve only as their pretext. M. de 
Lafayette's manner was perfectly calm; nobody ever saw it 
otherwise ; but his delicacy suffered from the importance of the 
part he was called to act. He asked for the interior posts of the 
chateau, in order that he might ensure their safety. Only the 
outer posts were granted him." This was not disrespectful to 
him who made the request. It was given simply because the eti- 
quette of the court reserved the guard of the royal person and 
family to another body of men. Lafayette therefore, answered 
for the national guards, and for the posts committed to them,- but he 
could answer for no more ; and his pledge was faithfully and des- 
perately redeemed. 

Between two and three o'clock, the queen and the royal family 
went to bed. Lafayette too, slept, after the great fatigues of this 
fearful day. At half past four, a portion of the populace made 
their way into the palace by an obscure interior passage^ which 
had been overlooked, and which was not in that part of the chateau 
entrusted to Lafayette. They were evidently led by persons who' 
well knew the secret avenues. Mirabeau's name was afterwards 
strangely compromised in it, and the form of the infamous duke 



XAFAVETTE. 347 

of Orleans was repeatedly recognized on the great staircase, point- 
ing the assassins the way to the queen's chamber. They easily 
found it. Two of her guards were cut down in an instant; and 
she made her escape almost naked. Lafayette immediately 
rushed in with the national troops, protected the guards from the 
brutal populace, and saved the lives of the royal family, which 
had so nearly been sacrificed to the etiquette of monarchy. 

The day dawned as this fearful scene of guilt and bloodshed was 
passing in the magnificent palace, whose construction had ex- 
hausted the revenues of Louis Fourteenth, and which, for a cen- 
tury, had been the most splendid residence in Europe. As soon 
as it was light, the same furious multitude filled the vast space, 
which, from the rich materials of which it is formed, passes under 
the name of the court of marble. They called upon the king in 
tones not to be mistaken, to go to Paris ; and they called for the 
queen, who had just escaped from their daggers, to come out upon 
the balcony. The king, after a short consultation with his minis- 
ters, announced his intention to set out for the capital ; but Lafaj - 
ette was afraid to trust the queen in the midst of the blood-thirstv 
multitude. He went to her therefore, with respectful hesitation, 
and asked her if it were her purpose to accompany the king to 
Paris. "Yes," she replied, "although I am aware of the danger." 
"Are you positively determined?" "Yes, sir." "Condescend 
then to go out upon the balcony, and suffer me to attend you." — 
"Without the king?" — she replied, hesitating — "have you observed 
the threats'" "Yes, madam, I have; but dare to trust me." He 
led her out upon the balcony. It was a moment of great respon- 
sibility and great delicacy; but nothing, he felt assured, could be 
so dangerous as to permit her to set out for Paris, surrounded by 
that multitude, unless its feeUngs could be changed. The agita- 
tion, the tumult, the cries of the crowd, rendered it impossible 
that his voice should be heard. It was necessary, therefore, to 
address himself to the eye, and turning towards the- queen, with 
that admirable presence of mind which never yet forsook him, and 
with that mingled grace and dignity which were the peculiar in- 
heritance of the ancient court of France, he simply kissed her 
hand before the vast multitude. An instant of silent astonish- 
ment followed ; but the whole was immediately interpreted, and the 



348 LAFAYETTE. 

air was rent with cries of "long live the queen !" "long live the 
general!" from the same fickle and cruel populace, that only two 
hours before, had embrued their hands in the blood of the guards, 
who defended the Ufe of this same queen. 

The same day that this scene was passing, the first meeting of 
the Jacobin club was held. Against this club and its projects, La- 
fayette at once declared himself. With Bailly, the mayor of Paris, 
he organized an opposing club, and the victory between the two 
parties was doubtful for above a year and a half. The contest, 
however, which was produced by this state of things, placed La- 
fayette in a very embarrassing and dangerous position. He was 
obliged to oppose the unprincipled purposes of the Jacobins, with- 
out retreating towards the principles of the ancient despotism ; and 
it is greatly to his honor, that he did it most faithfully and consist- 
ently. When therefore, on the 20th of June, 1790, a proposition 
was suddenly made in the assembly to abolish all titles of nobility, 
Lafayette, true to his principles, rose to second it. A short dis- 
cussion fallowed. It was objected to the abolition of rank, that if 
there were no titles, no such reward could be conferred as was 
once conferred by Henry second, when he created an obscure 
person according to the terms of his patent, "noble and count, for 
having saved the country at such a time." "The only difference," 
replied Lafayette, "will be, that the words noble and count will 
be left out, and the patent will simply declare, that on such an oc- 
casion, such a man saved the state." From this time Lafayette 
renounced the title of marquis, and has never since resumed it. 
Since the restoration of the Bourbons indeed, and the revival of 
the ancient nobility, there has been sometimes an affectation among 
the ultra royalists of calling him by his former title ; but he has 
never recognized it, and is still known in France, only by the ad- 
dress of general. At least, if he is sometimes called otherwise 
there, it is not by his friends. 

At length tiie constitution of a representative monarchy, much 
more popular than that of Great Britain, which Lafayette's exer- 
tions had, from the first opening of the assembly, been consistent- 
ly devoted to establish, was prepared ; and all were desirous that 
it should be received and recognized by the nation in the most 
solemn manner. The day chosen as most appropriate for the 



LAFAYETTE. 349 

ceremony, was the 14t]i of July, 1790, the anniversary of the 
destruction of the Bastile, and the open space behind the military 
school, called the Champ de Mars, from the Campus Martins of 
the Romans, was the place fixed on for this great national festival 
and solemnity. By the constant labor of above two hundred 
thousand persons of both sexes and all ranks, from dukes and duch- 
esses, bishops and deputies, down to the humblest artisans, who 
all made the occasion like the Saturnalia of the ancients, an am- 
pliitheatre of earth four miles in circumference was raised in a 
few weeks, whose sides were formed of scats destined to receive 
the French people, and amidst which stood the throne and the al- 
tar. On the morning of the day when the whole was to be con- 
summated, the king, the court, the clergy, the national assembly, 
a deputation of the military from the eighty -three departments, 
and a body of people amounting to above four hundred thousand 
souls, were assembled in this magnificicnt amphitheatre. Mass 
was first said, and then Lafayette, who, that day had the military 
command of four millions of men, represented by 14,000 elected 
militar}^ deputies, and who held in his hands the power of the 
monarchy, swore to the constitution on behalf of the nation, at 
the altar which had been erected in the midst of the arena. Eve- 
ry eye of that immense mass was turned on him; every hand was 
raised to join the oath he uttered. It was, no doubt, one of the 
most magnificent and solemn ceremonies the world ever saw ; and 
|)frhaj)5, no man ever enjoyed the sincere confidence of an entire 
people more completely than Lafayette did, as he thus bore the 
most imposing part in these extraordinary solemnities. 

The Champ de Mars, however, as madame de Stael has m ell 
observed, was the last monument of a genuine national enthusi- 
asm in France. The Jacobins were constantly gaining power, 
and the revolution was falling more and more into the hands of 
the populace. When the king wished to go to St. Cloud with his 
family, in order to pass through the duties of Easter, under the min- 
istration of a priest who had not taken certain civil oaths, which, 
in the eyes of many conscientious Catholics desecrated those who 
received them, the populace and the national guards tumultuous- 
ly stopped his carriage. Lafayette arrived at the first suggestion 
of danger. "If," said he, "this be a matter of conscience with 



350 LAFAYETTE. 

your majesty, we will, if it is necessary, die to maintain it," and 
he offered immediately to open a passage by force ; but the king 
hesitated at first, and finally determined to remain in Paris. 

Lafayette indeed, under all circumstances, remained strictly 
faithful to his oaths ; and now defended the freedom of the king, 
as sincerely as he had ever defended the freedom of the people. 
His situation, therefore, became every day more dangerous. He 
might have taken great power to himself, and so have been safe. 
He might have received the sword of constable of France, 
which was worn by the Montmorencies, but he declined it ; or he 
might have been generalissimo of the national guards, who owed 
their existence to him; but he thought it more for the safety of the 
state that no such power should exist. Having, therefore, organ- 
ized this last body, according to the project he had originally 
formed for it, he resigned all command at the dissolution of the 
constituent assembly, with a disinterestedness of which, perhaps, 
Washington alone could have been his example ; and retired to his 
estate in the country, followed, as he had been for many years, by 
crowds wherever he went, and accompanied on his way by every 
form of popular enthusiasm and admiration. 

From the tranquility to which he now gladly returned, he was 
soon called by the war with Austria, declared April 20th, and in 
which he was at once appointed one of the three generals to com- 
mand the French armies. His labors in the beginning of thisw'ar, 
whose declaration he did not approve, were very severe, and fhe 
obstacles he surmounted, some of which were purposely, thrown in 
his way by the factions of the capital, were great and alarming. 
But tbe Jacobins of Paris were now a well organized body, and 
were fast maturing their arrangements to overturn thetonstitution. 
Violences of almost every degree of atrocity were become common,, 
find that public order, of which Lafayette had never ceased to 
speak on all suitable occasions, no longer existed. Under these 
circumstances, he felt that his silence would be an abandonment 
of the principles, to the support of which he had devoted his life ;. 
and with a courage which few men in any age have been able to 
show, and with a temperance which has always kept his conduct 
on one even line, he wrote a letter to the national assembly, dated 
June 16th, in which he plainly denounced the growing faction of 



^, LAFAYETTE. 351 

Jacobins, and called on the constituted authorities to put a stop to 
the atrocities this faction was openly promoting. In the course of 
this letter he dared to say, "let the royai authority be untouched, 
for it is guaranteed by the constitution ; let it be independent, for 
its independence is one of the springs of our liberty ; let the king 
be respected, for he is invested with the majesty of the nation; let 
him choose a ministry that shall wear the chains of no faction ; and 
if traitors exist, let them perish only under the sword of the law,-' , 
There was not another man in France, who would have dared to 
take such a step at such a time ; and it required all Lafayette's 
influence to warrant him in expressing such opinions and feelings, 
or to protect him afterwards. 

At first the Jacobins seemed to shrink from a contest with him. 
He said to the assembly, "let the reign of clubs, abolished by you, 
give place to the reign of the law ;" and they almost doubted whe- 
ther he had not yet power enough to effect what he counselled. 
They began, therefore, as soon as the letter had been read, by 
denying its authenticity : they declared it, in short, to be a forgery. 
As soon as Lafayette heard of this, he came to Paris, and avowed 
it at the bar of the assembly. The 20th of June, however, had 
overthrown the constitution before his arrival ; and though he stood 
with an air of calm command amidst its ruins, and vindicated it as 
proudly as ever, he was after all surrounded by those who had 
triumphed over it. Still the majority of the assembly was decid- 
edly with him; and when, on the 8th of August, his impeachment 
was moved, more than two thirds voted in his favor. But things 
were daily gi-owing worse. On the 9th of August, the assembly 
declared itself no longer free ; and within two days its number fe 11 
to less than one third, and the capital was given up to the terrors 
of the 10th of August. Lafayette, therefore, could do nothing at 
Paris, and returned to his army on the borders of the low countries. 
But the army too was now infected. He endeavored to assure 
himself of its fidelity, and proposed to the soldiers to swear anew 
to the constitution. A very large proportion refused, and it now be- 
came apparent, from the movements both at Paris and in the army, 
that he was no longer safe. His adversaries, who, for his letter, 
were determined and interested to ruin him, were his judges, and 
they belonged to a party which was never known to devote a victim 



352 LAFAYETTE. ,; 

without consummating the sacrifice. On the 17th of August, there- 
fore, accompanied hy three of his general officers, he left the army, 
and m a few hours he was beyond the limits of France. His gen- 
eral purpose was to reach the neutral territory of the republic of 
Holland, which was quite near, and from that point either rally 
the old constitutional party, or pass to Switzerland or the United 
States, where he should be joined by his family. That he did not 
leave France while any hope remained for him, is certain, since 
before his escape was known at Paris, a decree accusing him of 
high treason, which was then equivalent to an order for his ex- 
ecution, was carried in what remained of the assembly, by a 
large majority. 

Lafayette and his companions hoped to avoid the enemy's posts, 
but they did not succeed. They were seized the same night by an 
Austrian patrol, and soon afterwards recognized. They were not 
treated as prisoners of war, which was the only quality iu which 
they could' have been arrested and detained ; but were exposed to 
disgraceful indignity, because they Jiad been the friends of tJie 
constitution. After being detained a short time by the Austrians, 
they were given up to the Prussians, who, because their fortresses 
were nearer, were supposed to be able to guard th,em more conve- 
niently. At first they were confined at Wesel, on the Rhine, and 
afterwards in dungeons at Magdeburg. But the Prussians at last 
became unwilling to bear the odium of such unlawful and disgrace- 
ful treatment of prisoners of war, entitled to every degree of re- 
spect from their rank and character, and especially from the man- 
ner in which they had been taken. They therefore gave them up 
again to the Austrians, who finally transferred them to most un- 
healthy dungeons in the citadel of Olmutz. The sufferings to which 
Lafayette was here exposed, in the mere spirit of a barbarous 
revenge, are almost incredible. He was warned, "that he would 
never again see any thing but the four walls of his dungeon j that 
he would never receive news of events or persons; that his name 
would be unknown in the citadel, and that in all accounts of him 
sent to court, he would be designated only by a number; that he 
would never receive any notice of his family, or the existence of 
his fellow prisoners." At the same time knives and forks were 
removed from him, as he was officially informed, because his 



LAFAYETTE. 353 

.situation was one which would naturally lead to suicide. His 
sufferings, indeed, proved almost be3'ond his strength. The want 
of air, and the loathsome dampness and filth of his dungeon, 
brought him more than once to the borders of the grave. His frame 
was wasted with diseases, of which, for a long time, not the sli^^ht- 
est notice was taken; and on one occasion, he was reduced so low 
that his hair fell from him entirely by the excess of his sufferinos. 
At the same time, his estates in France were confiscated, his wife 
oast into prison, and Fnyettism, as adherence to the constitution 
was called, was punished with death. 

His friends, however, all over Europe, were carefully watching 
every opportunity to obtain some intelligence, which should at 
least render his existence certain. Among those who made the 
most vigorous and continued exertions to get some hint of his fate, 
was count Lally Tolendal, then a refugee from his blood-stained 
country. This nobleman became acquainted in London with Dr. 
Erick Bollman, a Hanoverian, who immediately after the massa- 
cres of August 10th, 1792, had been employed by madame de 
Stael to effect the escape of count Narbonne, and by great address 
and courage, had succeeded in conveying him safely to England. 
Dr. Bollman's adventurous spirit easily led him to engage in the 
affairs of Lafayette. His first expedition to the continent, under 
the direction of Lafayette's friends in London, in 1793, was, how- 
ever, no further successful, than that he learned the determination 
of the Prussian government to give up Lafayette to Austria, and 
the probability that he had been already transferred. Where 
he was, and whether he were even alive, were circumstances 
Dr. Boliman found it impossible to determine. 

But the friends of Lafayette were not discouraged. In June, 
1794, they again sent Dr. Bollman to Germany, to ascertain what 
had been his fate, and if he were still alive, to endeavor to pro- 
cure his escape. With great difficulty he traced the French pris- 
oners to the Prussian frontiers, and there ascertained that an Aus- 
trian escort had received them, and taken the road to Olmutz, a 
strong fortress in Moravia, one hundred and fifty miles north of 
Vienna, and near the borders of Silesia. At Olmutz, Dr. Bollman 
ascertained that several state prisoners were kept in the citadel, 
with a degree of caution and mystery, which must have been not 
31 



354 LAJ^'AYETTE. 

unlike that used towards the half fabulous personage in the iron 
mask. He did not doubt but Lafayette was one of them, and mak- 
ing himself professionally acquainted with the military surgeon of 
the post, soon became sure of it. By very ingenious means, Dr, 
BoUman contrived to communicate his projects through this surgeon 
to Lafayette, and to obtain answers, without exciting the surgeon's 
suspicions ; until at last, after the lapse of several months, during 
which, to avoid all risk. Dr. Bollman made a long visit at Vienna, 
it was determined that an attempt should bo made to rescue Lafay- 
ette, while on one of the airings with which he was then regularly 
indulged, on account of his broken health. 

As soon as this was arranged, Dr. Bollman returned to Vienna, 
and communicated his project to a young American by the name 
of Francis K. Huger, then accidentally in Ai stria, son of the per- 
son at whose house near Charleston, Lafayette had been fii'st re- 
ceived on his landing in America, a young man of uncommon tal- 
ent, decision and enthusiasm, who at once entered into the whole 
of the design, and devoted himself to its execution with the most 
romantic earnestness. These were the only two persons on the 
continent, except Lafayette himself, who had the slightest suspi- 
cion of these arrangements for his rescue, and neither of these 
])ersons knew him by sight. It was, therefore, concerted between 
the two parties, after the two friends had come to Olmutz, in No- 
vember, that to avoid all mistakes when the rescue should be at- 
tempted, each should take off his hat and wipe his forehead, in sign 
of recognition ; and then, having ascertained a day when Lafay- 
ette would ride out, Dr. Bollman and Mr. Huger sent their carriage 
ahead to Hoff, a post about twenty -five miles on the road they 
wished to take, with directions to have it waiting for them at a 
given hour. The rescue they determined to attempt on horseback ; 
and they put no balls into their pistols, and took no other weapons, 
thinking it would be unjustifiable to commit a murder even to effect 
their purpose. 

Having ascertained that a carriage which they supposed must 
contain Lafayette, since there was a prisoner and an officer inside, 
and a guard behind, had passed out of the fortress, they mounted 
and followed. They rode by it, and then slackening their pace, 
ajfid allowing it again to go ahead, exchanged signals with the pris- 



• LAFAYETTE. 355 

oner. At two or three miles from the gate, the carriage left the 
high road, and passing into a less frequented track in the midst of 
an open country, Lafayette descended to walk for exercise, guard- 
ed only by the officer who had been riding with him. This wa« 
evidently the moment for their attempt. They therefore rode up 
at once, and after an inconsiderable struggle with the officer, from 
which the guard fled to alarm the citadel, the rescue was completed. 
One of the horses, however, had escaped during the contest, 
and thus only one remained with which to proceed. Lafayette 
was immediately mounted on this horse, and Mr. Huger told him, 
in English, to go to Hotf. He mistook what was said to him for a 
mere general direction to go off — delayed a moment to see if he 
conW not assist them — then went on — then rode back again, and 
asked once more, if he could be of no service — and finally urged 
anew, galloped slowly away. 

The horse that had escaped, was soon recovered, and both Dr. 
Bollman and Mr. Huger, mounted him, intending to follow and as- 
sist Lafayette. But the animal proved intractable, threw them and 
ieft them for some time stunned by their fall. On recovering their 
Siorse n serond time, Dr. Bollman alone mounted; Mr. Huger 
thinking that from his own imperfect knowledge of the German, 
he could not do as much towards effecting their main purpose. 
These accidents defeated their romantic enterprise. Mr. Huger, 
%vho could now attempt his escape only on foot, was soon stopped 
by some peasants, who had witnessed what had passed. Dr. Boll- 
man easily arrived at Hoff; but not finding Lafayette there, lin- 
gered about the frontiers till the next night, when he too was ar- 
rested and delivered up to the Austrians. And finally, Lafayette, 
having taken a wrong road, and pursued it till his horse could pro- 
ceed no further, was stopped at the village of Jagersdoff, as a sus- 
picious person, and detained there till he was recognized by an of- 
ficer from Olmutz, two days afterwards. All three of them were 
brought back to the citadel and separately confined, without being 
permitted to know any thing of each other's fate. Mr. Huger 
was chained to the floor, in a small arched dungeon, about six feet 
by eight, without light and with only bread and water for food, and 
once in six hours, by day and by night, the guard entered, and with 
a lamp, examined each brick in his cell, and each link in his chain. 



356 tAFAYETTE. 

To his earnest request to know something of Dr. Bollman, and to 
learn whether Lafayette had escaped, he received no answer at 
all. To his more earnest request to be permitted to send to his 
mother in America, merely the words, "I am alive," signed with 
his name, he received a rude refusal. Indeed, at first, every de- 
gree of brutal severity was practised towards both of them ; but af- 
terwards, this severity was relaxed. The two prisoners were 
placed nearer together, where they could communicate; and their 
trial for what, in Vienna, was magnified into a wide and alarming 
cons])iracy, was began with all the tedious formalities that could be 
prescribed by Austrian fear and caution. How it would have 
turned, if they had beenleftentirely unprotected, it is not difficult 
to conjecture: but at this crisis of their fate, they were secretly 
assisted by count Metrowsky, a nobleman living near their prison, 
whom neither of them had ever seen, and who was interested in 
them, only for what in the eyes of his government, constituted 
their crime. The means he used to influence the tribunal that 
judged them, may be easily imagined, since they were so far suc- 
cessful, that the prisoners, after having been confined for trial eight 
months, were sentenced only to a fortnight's imprisonment^ and 
then released. A few hours after they had left Olmutz, an order 
came from Vienna, directing a new trial, which, under the man- 
agement of the ministers, would of course have ended veiy differ^ 
ently from the one managed by count Metrowsky ; but the prisoners 
were already beyond the limits of the Austrian Dominions, 

Lafayette, in the meanwhile, was thrown back into his obscure 
and ignominious sufferings, with hardly a hope that they could be 
terminated, except by his death. During the winter of 1794 — 5, 
he was reduced to almost the last extremity by a violent fever; and 
yet was deprived of proper attendance, of air, of suitable food, 
and of decent clothes. To increase his misery, he was made to 
believe that he was only reserved for a public execution, and that 
his chivalrous deliverers would perish on the scafibld before his 
window ; while at the same time, he was not permitted to know 
whether his family were still alive, or had fallen under the revo- 
lutionary axe, of which, during the few days he was out of his dun- 
geon, he had heard such appalling accounts. 

Madame de Lafayette, however, was nearer to him than he 



IJIFAVETTE. 357 

could imagine to be possible. She had beer, released from prison, 
where she too, had nearly perished ; and having gained strength 
sufficient for the undertaking, and sent her eldest son for safety, to 
the care of general Washington, she set out accompanied by her 
two young daughters, for Germany, all in disguise, and with Amer- 
ican passports. They were landed at Altona, and proceeding im- 
mediately to Vienna, obtained an audience of the emperor, who 
refused to liberate Lafayette, but as it now seems probable, against 
the intentions of his ministers, gave them permission to join him 
in his prison. They went instantly to Olmutz; but before they 
could enter, they were deprived of whatever they had brought with 
them to alleviate the miseries of a dungeon, and required, if they 
should pass its threshold, never again to leave it. Madame de La- 
fayette's iiealth soon sunk under the complicated sufferings and 
privations of her loathsome imprisonment, and she wi-ote to Vienna 
for permission to pass a week at the capital^, to breathe purer air 
and obtain medical assistance. Two months elapsed before any 
answer was returned; and then she was told, that no objection 
would be made to her leaving her husband,- but if she should do 
so, she must never return to him. She immediately and formally 
signed her consent and determination "to share his captivity in all 
its details:'' and never afterwards made an effort to leave him. 
Madame de Stael has well observed when on this point of the his- 
tory of the French revolution; — "antiquity offers nothing more 
admirable than the conduct of general Lafayette, his wife, and hss 
daughters, in the prison of Olmutz." 

One more attempt was made to effect the liberation of Lafayette, 
and it was made in the place and in the way that might have been 
expected. When the emperor of Austria refused the liberty of her 
husband to madame de Lafayette^ he told her that "his hands were 
tied." In this remark, the emperor could, of course, allude to no 
law or constitution of his empire, and therefore his hands could be 
tied only by engagements with his allies in the war against France. 
England was one of these allies, and general Fitzpatrick, in the 
house of commons, made a motion for an enquiry into the case, in 
which he was supported by colonel Tarleton, who had fought 
against Lafayette in Virginia. Afterwards on the 16th of Decem- 
ber, 1796, general Fitzpatrick renewed his attempt more solemnly, 
31* 



1 



358 LAFAYETTE. 

and was supported in it by Wilberforce, by Sheridan, and by Fox. 
in one of his most powerful and happy speeches ; but the motion 
was lost. One effect, however, unquestionably followed from it : 
a solemn and vehement discussion on Lafayette's imprisonment, in 
which the emperor of Austria found no apologist, had been held in 
the face of all Europe; and all Europe, of course, was informed 
of his sufferings in the most solemn and authentic way. 

When, therefore, general Clarke was sent from Paris, to join 
Bonaparte in Italy, and negotiate a peace with the Austrians, it 
was understood that he received orders from the directory to stip- 
ulate for the deliverance of the prisoners in Olmutz, since it was 
impossible for France to consent to such an outrage on the rights 
of citizenship, as would be implied by their further detention. — 
On opening the negotiation, an attempt was made on the part of 
Austria, to compel Lafayette to receive his freedom on conditions 
prescribed to him; but this he distinctly refused; and in a docu- 
ment that has often been published, declared with a firmness which 
we can hardly believe would have survived such sufferings, that 
he would never accept his liberation in any way that should com- 
promise his rights and duties, either as a Frenchman or as an 
American citizen. Bonaparte often said, that of all the difficulties 
in this protracted negotiation with the coalition, the greatest was 
the deliverance of Lafayette. He was, however, at last released 
with his family, on the 25th of August, 1797; madame de Lafay- 
ette and her daughters having been confined twenty-two months, 
and Lafayette himself live years, in a disgraceful spirit of vulgar 
cruelty and revenge, of which modern history can afford, we trust, 
very few examples. 

France was still too little settled to promise peace or safety to 
Lafayette and his family. They proceeded first to Hamburg; and 
then, after causing their rights both as French and American citi- 
zens, to be formally recognized, went to the neighboring neutral 
territories of Holstein, where they lived in retirement and tran- 
quility about a year. There they were joined by their eldest son, 
who came to them from the family of general Washington; there 
too, their eldest daughter was married to Latour Mauburg, brother 
of a person who had shared Lamyette's captivity : and there he 
first devoted himself with great earnestness to those agricultural 



LAFAYETTE. 359 

pursuits, which have since constituted the occupation and the hap- 
piness of his life. From Holstein he went, at the formal invitation 
of the Batavian republic, and established himself for several 
months at Utrecht in Holland, where he was treated with great 
consideration and kindness, and where he had the advantage of 
being nearer to the borders of his own country. While he was 
thus living tranquil and happy, but anxiously watching the pro- 
gress of events in France, the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, 
November 10th, 1799, happened and promised for a time to settle 
the government of his country on a safer foundation. He imme- 
diately returned to France, and established himself at La Grange ; 
a fine old castle, surrounded by amoderateestate, about forty miles 
from Paris, where he has lived ever since. 

When, however, Bonaparte, to whom the revolution of the 18th 
Brumaire had given supreme control, began to frame his constitu- 
tion and organize his government, Lafayette perceived at once, 
that the principles of freedom would not be permanently respected . 
He had several interviews and political discussions with the con- 
sul, and was much pressed to accept the place of Senator, with its 
accompanying revenues, in the new order of things ; but he re- 
fused, determined not to involve himself in changes which he al- 
ready foresaw he should not approve. In 1802, Bonaparte asked 
to be made first consul for life : Lafayette voted against it, entered 
his protest, and sent a letter to Bonaparte himself; and from this 
moment, all intercourse between them ceased. Bonaparte even 
went so far as to refuse to promote Lafayette's eldest son, and his 
son-in-law Lasteyrie, though they distinguished themselves re- 
peatedly in the army; and once, when a report of the services of 
the former in a bulletin was offered him, he erased it with impa- 
tience, saying, "these Lafayettes cross my path every where." — 
Discouraged, therefore, in every way in which they could be of 
■service to their country, the whole family was at last collected at 
La Grange, and lived there in the happiest retirement, so long as 
the despotism of Bonaparte lasted. 

The restoration of the Bourbons in 1814, made no change in 
Lafayette's relations. He presented himself once at court, and 
was very kindly received ; but the government they established 
was so different from the representative government, which he 



360 LAFAVETTE. 

had assisted to form and sworn to support in 1789, that he did not 
again present himself at the palace. The Bourbons, by neglect- 
ing entirely to understand or conciliate the nation, at the end of 
a year brought back Bonaparte, who landed the first of March, 
1815, and reached the capital on the 20th. His appearance in 
Paris was like a theatrical illusion, and his policy seemed to be to 
play all men, of all parties, like the characters of a great drama, 
around him. Immediately on his arrival upon the soil of France, 
he endeavored to win the old friends of French freedom ; and the 
same day that he made his irruption into the ancient palace of the 
Thuilleries, he appointed Carnot his minister of war, and Carnot 
was weak enough to accept the appointment with the title of count. 
In a similar way, he endeavored to obtain the countenance and 
co-operationi of Lafayette. Joseph Bonaparte, to whom Lafayette 
was personally known, and for whom he entertained a personal 
regard, was employed by the emperor to consult and conciliate 
him; but Lafayette would hold no communion with the new order 
of things. He even refused, though most pressingly solicited, to 
have an interview with the emperor; and ended, when still further 
urged, by positively declaring that he could never meet him unless 
it should be as a representative freely chosen by the people. 

On the 22d of April, Napoleon offered to the French nation, his 
acte additional, or an addition, as he chose to consider it, to the 
constitutions of 1799, 1802, and 1804; confirming thereby the 
principles of his former despotism, but establishing among other 
things, an hereditary chamber of peers,, and an elective chamber 
of representatives. This act was accepted, or pretended to be 
accepted by the votes of the French people ; but Lafayette entered 
his solemn protest against it, in the same spirit with which he had 
protested against the consulship for life. The very college of 
electors, however, who received his protest, unanimously chose 
him, first to be their president and afterwards to be their repre- 
sentative; and the emperor, determined to obtain his influence,, or 
at least his silence, offered him the first peerage in the new cham- 
ber he was forming. Lafayette was as true to his principles as 
he had oflen been before, under more difficult circumstances. He 
accepted the place of representative, and declined the peerage. 
As a representative of the people, he saw Bonaparte for the 



LAFAYETTE. 361 

first time, at the opening of the chambers, on the 7th of June. — 
"It is above twelve years since we have met, general," said Napo- 
leon, with great kindness of manner, when he saw Lafayette ; but 
Lafayette received the emperor with marked distioisl; and all his 
efforts were directed as he then happily said they should be, "to 
make the chamber, of which he was a member, a representation 
of the French people, and not a Napoleon club." Of three candi- 
dates for the presidency of the chamber on the first ballot, Lafay- 
ette and Lanjuinaishad the highest number of votes; but finding 
that the emperor had declared he would not accept Lanjuinais if 
■he should be chosen, Lafayette used great exertions and obtained 
a majority for him; to -which, circumstances compelled Napoleon 
to submit. From this moment until after the battle of Waterloo, 
which happened in twelve days, Lafayette did not make himself 
prominent in the chamber. He voted for all judicious .supplies, 
on the ground that France was invaded, and that it was the duty 
of all Frenchmen to defend their country: but he in no way im- 
plicated himself in Bonaparte''s projects or fortunes, with which it 
was impossible that he could have any thing in common. 

At laei, on the 21st of June, Bonaparte arrived from Waterlo , 
a defeated and desperate man. He was already determined to 
dissolve the representative body, and assuming the whole dictator- 
ship of the country, play at least, one deep and bloody game for 
j)ower and success. Some of his council, and among the rest, 
Regnault de St. Jean d'Angley, who Mere opposed to this violent 
measure, informed Lafayette that it would be taken instantly, and 
that in two hours the chamber of representatives would cease to 
exist. There was, of course, not a moment left for consultation or 
advice; the elnperor or the chamber must fall that morning. As 
soon, therefore, as the session was opened, Lafayette, with the 
same clear courage and in the same spirit of self-devotion, wilh 
which he stood at the bar of the national assembly in 17132, im- 
mediately ascended the tribune for the first time for twenty years, 
and said these v.ords, which assuredly would have been his deatli 
warrant, if he had not been supported in them by the assembly 
he addressed; "when, after an interval of many yeais, I raise a 
voice which the friends of free institutions will still recognize, I 
feel myself called upon to .speak to you only of the dangers of the 



302 LAFAYETTE. 

country, which you alone have now the power to save. Sinister 
intimations have been heard; they are unfortunately confirmed.— 
This, therefore, is the moment for us to gather round the ancient 
tri-colored standard; the standard of '89, the standard of freedom^ 
of equal rights, and of public order. Permit then, gentlemen, a 
veteran in this sacred cause, one who has always been a stranger 
to the spirit of faction, to offer you a few preparatory resolutions, 
whose absolute necessity, I trust, you will feel as I do." These 
resolu! ions declared the chamber to be in permanent session, and 
all attempts to dissolve it, high treason; and they also called for 
the four principal ministers to come to the chamber and explain 
the state of affairs. Bonaparte is said to have been much agitated, 
when word was brought him simply that Lafayette was in the 
tribune ; and his fears were certainly not ill founded, for these re- 
solutions, which were at once adopted, both by the representatives 
and the peers, substantially divested him of his power, and left 
him merely a factious and dangerous individual in the midst of a 
distracted state. 

He hesitated during the whole day, as to the course he should 
pursue; but at last, hoping that the eloquence of Luciun, which 
had saved him on the 18th Brumaire, might be found no less ef- 
fectual now, he sent him with three other ministers, to the cham- 
ber, just at the beginning of the evening; having first obtained a 
vote that all should pass in secret session. It was certainly a 
most perilous crisis. Reports M-ere abroad, that the populace of 
the Fauxbourgs had been excited, and were arming themselves. 
It was believed, too, with no little probability, that Bonaparte 
would march against the chamber as he had formerly marched 
against the council of five hundred, and disperse them at the point 
of the bayonet. At all events, it was a contest for existence, 
and no man could feel his life safe. At this moment, Lucien rose, 
and in the doubtful and gloomy light which two vast torches 
shed through the hall and over the pale and anxious features of 
the members, made a partial exposition of the state of affairs and 
the projects and hopes he still entertained. A dead and painful 
silence followed. At length, Mr. Jay, well known about twenty 
years ago in Boston, under the assumed name of Renaud, as a 
teacher of the French language, and an able writer in one of the 



LAFAYETTE. 363 

public newspapers of that city, ascended the tribune, and, in a Ion"- 
and vehement speech of great eloquence, exposed the dangers of 
the country, and ended by proposing to send a deputation to the 
emperor, demanding his abdication. Lucien immediately fol- 
lowed. He never showed more power, or a more impassioned 
eloquence. His purpose was to prove, that France was still de- 
voted to the emperor, and that its resources were still equal to a 
contest with the allies. "It is not Napoleon," he cried, "that is 
attacked, it is the French people. And a proposition is now made 
to this people, to abandon their eniperor; to expose the French na- 
tion, before the tribunal of the world, to a severe judgment on its 
levity and inconstancy. No, sir, the honor of this nation shall 
never be so compromised!" On hearing these words, Lafayette 
rose. He did not go to the tribune : but spoke, contrary to rule 
and custom, from his place. His manner was perfectly calm, but 
marked with the very spirit of rebuke; and he addressed himself, 
not to the President, but directly to Lucien. "The assertion, 
which has just been uttered, is a calumny. Who shall dare to 
accuse the French nation of inconstancy to the emperor Napoleon ? 
That nation has followed his bloody footsteps tlirough the sands of 
Egypt and through the wastes of Russia; over fifty fields of battle ; 
in disaster as faithful as in victory; and it is for having thus de- 
votedly followed him, that we now mourn the loss of three millions 
of Frenchmen." These few words made an impression on the 
assembly which could not be mistaken or resisted ; and, as Lafay- 
ette ended, Lucien himself bowed respectfully to him, and with- 
out resuming his speech, sat down. 

It was determined to appoint a deputation of five members from 
each chamber, to meet the grand council of the ministers, and de- 
liberate in committee on the measures to be taken. This body 
sat during the night, under the presidency of Cambaceres, arch- 
chancellor of the empire. The first thing that was done in this 
committee, was to devise and arrange every possible means of 
resisting the invasion of the allies and the Bourbons ; and Lafay- 
ette was foremost in giving the government, for this purpose, eve- 
ry thing that could be asked. But it was apparent, from the rep- 
resentations of the ministers themselves, that they could carry on 
the war no longer. Lafayette then moved that a deputation should 



364 LAFAYETTE, 

be sent to Napoleon, demanding his abdication. The arch-chan- 
cellor refused to put the motion ; but it was as much decided, as if 
it had been formally carried. The next morning, June 22d, the 
emperor sent in his abdication, and Lafayette was on the commit- 
tee that went to the Thuilleries, to thank him for it, on behalf of 
the nation. 

It had been the intention of a majority of both chambers, from 
the moment of their convocation, to form a free constitution for the 
country, and to call the whole people to arms to resist the invasion. 
In both of these great purposes they had been constantly opposed 
bv Bonaparte; and in the few hurried and anxious days that pre- 
ceded the battle of Waterloo, there had been time to do very little. 
There was now nothing but confusion. A project was arranged 
to place Lafayette at the bead of affairs, because it was known 
that he could carry with him the confidence of the nation, and es- 
pecially that of the national guards, whom he would immediately 
have called out en masse. But a scene of most unworthy intrigues 
was immediately begun. A crude, provisional government was 
established, with the infamous Fouche as its president, which lasted 
only a few days, and whose principal measure was the sending of 
a deputation to the allied powers, of which Lafayette was the head, 
to endeavor to stop the invasion of France. This of course failed, 
as had been foreseen. Paris surrendered on the 3d of July, and 
what remained of the representative government, which Bonaparte 
had created for his own purposes, but which Lafayette had turned 
against him, was soon afterwards dissolved. Its doors were found 
guarded on the morning of the 8th, but by what authority has never 
been known; and the members met at Lafayette's house, entered 
their formal protest, and went quietly to their own homes. 

Since this era, general Lafayette remained for many years in 
retirement, and took but little part in public affairs. He was twice 
returned a member of the chamber of deputies, since 1817, in op- 
position to all the influence of the ministerial party. He in gen- 
eral has taken but little part in the business of the legislature, 
believing that he could do no good. But the plan of the ministers 
to establish a censorship over the press, aroused the patriotism and 
spirit of this veteran of three revolutions. He declared with great 
energy, that the law was incompatible with even the most limited 



LAFAYETTE. ,. 365 

freedom, and an outrage on the rights of the people; and he "con- 
jured the servants of the crown to maintain the hberties of France 
within the limits prescribed by the constitution. To violate it, is 
to dissolve the mutual garantees of the nation and the throne : it 
is to give ourselves up to total primitive freedom from all duties 
and from all laws." The proposed law was adopted by a small 
majority ; which led to the institution of a society, consisting of 
the members of the opposition and other liberals, for the relief of 
those who might suffer on account of the unjust restrictions on the 
press. General Lafayette was placed at the head of this society. 
As general Lafayette could discover but little gratifying to him 
in the political condition and future prospects of his native coun- 
try, his heart seemed to have inclined, with unusual fondness, to 
the country of his adoption. Having signified to many Americans 
and others, his intention of visiting the United States once more, 
numerous public and private letters were written to him from this 
country, expressing much satisfaction at this intelligence, and the 
hope that the citizens of the United States would soon be gratified 
by seeing among them this distinguished friend of America, and 
great apostle of liberty. Among other communications, were let- 
ters from the mayors of New-York and Boston, inviting him to 
visit those cities; and in January, 1824, congress adopted a reso- 
lution, requesting the president "to ofier him a public ship for his 
accommodation, and to assure him, in the name of the people of 
this great republic, that they cherished for him a grateful and af- 
fectionate attachment," This national respect, more honorable, 
perhaps, than any individual ever received before under similar 
circumstances, he declined, probably from motives of delicacy ; 
but embarked in a private vessel, and arrived at New-York on the 
15th of August, 1824. He was accompanied by his son, George 
Washington Lafayette, and his friend and private secretary, M. 
Lavassieur. 

The reception which general Lafayette met with at the com- 
mercial metropolis of the United States, and in every other town 
which he visited, or through which he passed, was such as became 
the free citizens of the freest nation on earth, to offer to the first 
and most venerated patriot of the age, and the early and undeviat- 
ing friend of America, who had sacrificed his fortune and his blood 
33 



366 LAFAYETTE. 

in establishing its independence and liberty. Although he came 
among us as a private individual, he was received as a public or 
national character, as the guest of the country, and honored as 
the distinguished and disinterested benefactor of America, to whom 
ten millions of freemen acknowledged themselves measurably in- 
debted for the political privileges and blessings which they enjoy. 
No man ever received, and no one can receive greater honor than 
this ; the homage and gratitude of an entire nation, unbribed and 
unbought, flowing spontaneously, the free-will offering of the heart ; 
the universal impulse which vibrated as the pulse of the nation. 

These honors from the people, in their individual and primary 
character, called for corresponding conduct from the nation in its 
collective and corporate capacity ; and the representatives of the 
people met the wishes of their constituents, and as the organs of 
the public will, in the name of the nation showed that respect to 
the distinguished benefactor of the country, which corresponded 
with the sentiments manifested by the people. They did more; 
they offered a more substantial tribute of respect, and in some 
measure discharged the obligations of the nation to its disinter- 
ested and illustrious benefactor. 

President Monroe, in his message at the opening of the ses- 
sion, recommended to congress to make some remuneration to 
general Lafayette, for his services and sacrifices in the revolution- 
ary war, worthy the national character. The suggestion of the 
president, which was in accordance with the sentiments of the peo- 
ple, was very honorably followed up by congress, which manifest- 
ed its respect and liberality both, in a manner wholly unexampled. 
A committee was raised in each house, to consider and report 
v/hat provision it would be proper to make for general Lafayette, 
which reported a bill, granting to him two hundred thousand dollars 
in stock to be created for that purpose, and a township of land, to 
be located on any of the unappropriated lands of the government. 
This bill, after some slight opposition, which only served to call 
forth a disclosure of the immense expenditures and sacrifices of 
this veteran patriot, during the six years he was engaged in our 
revolutionary struggle, was adopted, there being only seven dis- 
senting voices in the senate, and twenty-six in the house. 

It was stated by Mr. Hayne, in the senate, that he had docu- 



LAFAYETTE. 367 

ments in his hand, which had been obtained without the interfer- 
ence or knowledge of Lafayette, from which it incontestibly ap- 
peared, that during six years of the American war, he expended 
in the service seven hundred thousand francs, or one hundred and 
forty thousand dollars. This sum, at compound interest for forty 
three years, would amount to more than a million of dollars. — 
Mr. Hayne also stated another fact, highly honorable to the gen- 
eral. In 1803, congress granted him a tract of eleven thousand 
five hundred and twenty acres of land, to be located in any of the 
public lands ; and his agent located one thousand acres in the vi- 
cinity of the city of New-Orleans. Without attending to this fact, 
congress subsequently included this tract in a grant of land made 
to that city. This tract was then worth fifty thousand dollars, and 
is now said to be valued at five hundred thousand. Notwithstand- 
ing this, and although advised that his title was indubitably valid, 
the general, with singular delicacy of feeling, immediately relin- 
quished his claim, and caused a deed to be recorded, remarking, 
«that he would not enter into controversy ; the act had been gra- 
tuitous, and congress best knew what they intended to bestow." 

After the 'return of Lafayette to France, he resumed his agri- 
cultural pursuits at La Grange, till the breaking out of the revolu- 
tion of July, 1830. The events of that revolution are so recent 
that a particular detail in this place is unnecessary. It is well 
known, that on the first rising of the Parisian population, for the 
purpose of resisting the illegal measures of Charles X., La- 
fayette repaired to Paris, and lent all his efforts to overthrow the 
tyranny of the Bourbons. When this was accomplished, and Louis 
Phillipe called to the throne, Lafayette was appointed commander 
of the national guards. This post he held but a few months, ow- 
ing to a misunderstanding between him and the new king, since 
which time he has been looked upon with suspicion and distrust by 
the court. His popularity is still unbounded with the people ; and 
at the present time, October, 1831, he is a member of the cham- 
ber of deputies ; and often makes his voice heard in favor of the 
same principles of liberty, which he imbibed when fighting the 
battles of our revolution. He is now upwards of seventy years 
of age, but ^tains, in a remarkable degree, all the powers and 
faculties of mind, and his bodily activity is very little impaired. 



368 STEUBEN. 

BARON DE STEUBEN, 
Major-General in the American Army, 
Among the foreign officers who repaired to the American stand- 
ard, and nobly and generously assisted in achieving our indepen- 
dence, none have higher claims upon our gratitude and esteem, 
after Lafayette, than the "good Baron Steuben :" born and edu- 
cated under a despotic government, he still was not insensible to 
the blessings of freedom and the rights of man. 

Frederick William Steuben was a native of Prussia, and born 
in the year 1735. Being designed for the profession of arms, he 
received a military education, and was early engaged in military 
employments. His military science, undoubted bravery, and as- 
siduous attention to duty, did not escape the penetration of the 
great Frederick ; and soon procured for the young baron, the con- 
fidence of his sovereign and the most honorable preferment. For 
many years,' he served in the memorable campaigns of his sov- 
ereign, the greatest commander of the age, with distinguished 
reputation. This was a school, in which the dullest could hardly 
fail of acquiring experience and knowledge in the art of war: and 
at the same time opened a field, sufficiently capacious for the most 
ardent aspirant for military fame. The war, which was termi- 
nated by the peace of 1763, in which France, Austria, Russia, 
Sweden and Saxony, were united against Prussia, and which was 
commenced on the part of the allies, for the conquest and spolia- 
tion of the dominions of his Prussian majesty, afforded the boldest 
and most successful campaigns, and the most splendid victories, 
of any in modern times. The exertions of the king of Prussia, 
in sustaining himself, with the assistance of Great Britain, as his 
ally, against so many, and so powerful enemies, were truly aston- 
ishing. But his active genius overcame all difficulties, taught his 
enemies to respect him, and secured to him a military reputation, 
not second to any commander of the age. To have served with 
this great general, in his memorable campaigns, and taken a part 
in such great and splendid victories as those of Prague, Lissa, 
Crevelt, Zoondorff, Minden, and Torgau, was sufficient to confer 
experience and establish a military character, of no ordinary dis- 
tinction. But to have performed this service, undjr a comman- 
der so severe, with success and honor, and to have secured his 



STEUBEN. 369 

highest confidence, was a more conclusive proof of military genius 
and talents. And that baron Steuben did this, is sufficiently evi- 
dent, from the single fact, was there no other, of his having served 
as aid to his Prussian majesty — who would have no officer around 
his person, that did not sustain the first reputation for courage and 
capacity. The baron rose to the high rank of lieutenant-general 
in the Prussian service. 

At the breaking out of the American war, there was a general 
peace in Europe, which favored the wishes of those patriots and 
adventurers in that hemisphere, who desired to signalize their 
valor and patriotism, in assisting an infant people, struggling for 
their rights. Among the numerous foreigners who honored the 
American cause by crossing the Atlantic to serve it, some, no 
doubt, acted from no other motive than those which usually gov- 
ern the conduct of military adventurers. Many however, with- 
out doubt, were influenced by more noble and exalted motives ; a 
regard for liberty, and a sincere desire to establish it in the new 
world, which might serve both as an asylum, and an example for 
the old. And, notwithstanding the arbitrary government of Prus- 
sia, under which he had lived, such were the sentiments and views 
of baron de Steuben. His enlightened mind led him to esteem 
civil liberty as the highest earthly good ; and he was desirous of 
consecrating his attachment to it, by his services, if not by his 
blood. He sailed from France to the United States, and arrived 
at Portsmouth, in New-Hampshire, in November, 1777. He 
brought with him strong recommendations from the American com- 
missioners at Paris and others, to congress. Notwithstanding 
which, however, he informed that body, that he wished for rjp rank, 
or compensation, and only requested permission, as a volunteer, 
to render what service he could to the American army, and the 
cause in which the country was engaged. The following winter 
he spent at Valley Forge, where the American army was in win- 
ter quarters, under Washington. As is well known, the army, at 
this time, was in a most suffering condition ; being in want of pro- 
visions, clothing, and almost every thing which their comfort re- 
quired. But notwithstanding these discouraging circumstances, 
baron de Steuben exerted himself, with great assiduity, to improve 
the discipUne and manoeuvres of the army. From his great mil- 
32* 



.'370 STEUBEN. 

itary science and experience, his prudent conduct, and the inter- 
est he manifested in the cause he had espoused, he soon acquired 
the confidence of Washington. Early in the year 1778, general 
Conway resigned the office of inspector-general ; and Washington, 
sensible of the great military skill and acquirements of Steuben, 
immediately recommended him to congress for that important post : 
which was soon after conferred upon him, with the rank of major- 
general. 

Being clothed with authority, and it being now his particular 
duty to attend to the discipline of the troops, his distinguished tal- 
ents as a tactician, were soon rendered conspicuous in the im- 
oroved discipline of the troops. He exerted himself to introduce 
a uniform and improved system of manoeuvres, and by his skill, 
perseverance and industry, effected, during the continuance of 
the troops at Valley Forge, a most important and advantageous 
improvement in the discipline of all ranks of the army. 

After general Arnold had treacherously deserted his post at 
West Point,.the baron never failed to manifest his indignation and 
abhorrence of his name and character, and while inspecting colonel 
Sheldon's regiment of light-horse, the name of Arnold struck his 
ear. The soldier was ordered to the front, he was a tine looking 
fellow, his horse and equipments in excellent order — "change 
your name, brother soldier," said the baron, "you are too respect- 
able to bear the name of a traitor." "What name shall I take, 
genera'?" "Take any other name; mine is at your service." — 
Most cheerfully was the offer accepted, and his name was entered 
on the roll as Steuben. He or his children now enjoy the land 
given to him in the town of Steuben by the baron. This brave 
soldier met him after the war. "I am well settled, general," said 
he, "and have a wife and son ; I have called my son after you, sir." 
"I thank you, my friend; what name have you given the boy?" 
"I called him Baron — what else could I call him?" 

When Sir Henry Clinton evacuated Philadelphia, for New- York, 
and v.as pursued by Washington, Steuben accompanied the A- 
merican army ; and although he had no particular command, he 
volunteered in the action at Monmouth. He continued his exer- 
tions to improve the discipline of the army and to introduce his 
system, and thus establish uniformity throughout the different corps 



STEUBEX, 371 

of the army: and for this purpose^in 1779, an abstract of his sys- 
tem of discipline and tactics was published, in compliance with 
the wishes of the commander-in-chief, and of congress. This, 
being put into the hands of all the officers, had a wonderful influ- 
ence in giving uniformity to the different corps of the army. 

In October, 1780, after the defeat and dispersion of the south- 
ern army at Camden, under general Gates, great anxiety a\ as 
felt for the fate of the southern states • and congress, in a particu- 
lar manner, directed their attention to the state of the war in that 
department. Gen. Greene Avas appointed to supercede Gates; 
major Lee was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and 
ordered to join the southern army with his legionary corps ; and 
baron de Steuben was directed to proceed to Virginia, to organize 
from the militia and other elements which the state afforded, the 
means of defence against the forces of the enemy, then in the 
state, and threatening the destruction of its principal towns. 

While upon this duty, a regiment had been collected, and was 
paraded on the point of marching, when a well looking man on 
horseback, rode up and informed the baron that he had brought 
him a recruit. "I thank you, sir," said the baron, "with all my 
heart; where is your man, colonel?" for he was a colonel in the 
militia, "Here, sir," ordering his boy to dismount. The baron's 
countenance changed, for he was too honest to suffer an imposition 
to be practised on the public. A sergeant was ordered to measure 
the lad, whose shoes, when off, discovered something by which his 
stature had been increased. The baron, patting the child's hea d 
with his hands, trembling with rage, asked him how old he was? 
He was very young, quite a child. "Sir," said he to the militia 
colonel, "you must have supposed me to be a rascal." Oh no! 
baron, I did not." "Then, sir, I suppose you to be a rascal, an 
infamous rascal, thus to attempt to cheat your country. Sergeant, 
take off this fellow's spurs, and place him in the ranks, that w-e 
may have a man able to serve, instead of an infant, whom he 
would basely have made his substitute ! Go, my boy, take the 
colonel's spurs and horse to his wife ; make my compliments, and 
say, her husband has gone to fight for the freedom of his country, 
as an honest man should do," — And instantly ordered — "platoons ! 
to the right wheel — forward, march !" 



372 STEUBEN. 

Colonel Gaskins, who commanded the regiment, fearing the 
consequences, after marching some distance, allowed the man to 
escape, who immediately made application to the civil authority 
for redress; but governor Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and others, not 
doubting the purity of the baron's motive, and fully appreciating 
his honest zeal, prevented any disagreeable results attending this 
high-handed exertion of military power. 

Great apprehensions were felt for the safety of Richmond, — 
threatened by the British general Leshe, at Portsmouth; but about 
the time the baron arrived at the capital of Virginia, the enemy left 
Portsmouth, which prevented the necessity of those measures 
which had been planned for his expulsion, and Virginia, for a short 
time, remained tranquil. Early in January, 1781, however, this 
repose was disturbed by the arrival of the traitor Arnold in the 
Chesapeake, who landed his forces on the James River, a few- 
miles below Richmond. His ravages were immediately felt at 
Richmond, Smithfield, and other places. Baron de Steuben, ex- 
erted himself to collect and organize a force of militia to oppose 
his destructive progress. This induced Arnold to retire tp Ports- 
mouth, and commence works of defence. But the militia came in 
slow, and a considerable portion of which, being without arms, the 
baron could do no more than protect the country from the preda- 
tory incursions of small parties. These movements in Virginia 
induced congress to order Lafayette to the south, to oppose Arnold, 
with the expected co-operation of the French fleet. All the troops 
of the continental establishment of Virginia, being under general 
Greene, in South Carolina, the defence of the state, against the 
depredations of the enemy, rested on the militia, of which the 
baron had collected about 2,000 ; one half were on the north side 
of James River, under general Nelson, and with the other half, 
the baron made an attempt to protect Petersburgh, but his means 
being wholly inadequate to the object, he was obliged to retreat and 
suffer the enemy to enter the town. Previous to this, Arnold had 
been reinforced by general Phillips, who had taken the chief com- 
mand. The baron could do no more than watch the motions of 
the enemy, and check the predatory incursions of small parties. 

On the arrival of the marquis Lafayette, with a small force of 
regulars, he joined Steuben, and took upon him the chief com- 



STEUBEN. 373 

mand. Their united force checked the progress of general Phil- 
lips, and compelled him to turn his steps towards City Point, 
where his fleet lay. 

In the various marches and counter-marches which character* 
ized the operations between Lafayette and lord Ccrnwallis, who 
had soon after assumed the command of the British forces in Vir- 
ginia, the baron Steuben aftbrdedthe most prompt and ready assist- 
ance to the young marquis. He was stationed at Point Fork, with 
five hundred new levies, to protect the American stores, when 
Tarleton was ordered to destroy them ; as the enemy approached, 
being led into a belief that the whole British army was near, he 
deemed it advisable to make a rapid retreat during the night, leav- 
ing all the stores to fall a sacrifice to the enemy. But though he 
lost the stores, he saved his men, and succeeded in joining the 
marquis, at the same time that he received a reinforcement of the 
rifle corps under colonel Clark, which enabled the marquis to as- 
sume a more imposing attitude. The baron continued to cc-ope- 
rate with Lafayette in the subsequent events of the campaign m hich 
was terminated by the siege of York-town. He generally had the 
command of militia, or of new levies, and was improving their 
discipline, whilst he was aiding the operations of the marquis. — 
He was present during tlie siege of York-town, and exerted him- 
self with great ardor in the various operations, and commanded in 
die trenches on the day the enemy surrendered, and was entitled 
(0 share in the honor of this memorable siege, which so gloriously 
terminated the great struggle in which the country was engaged. 
"At the siege of York-town, the baron was in the trenches, at 
the head of his division, and received the first overture of lord 
Cornwallis to capitulate. At the relieving hour, next morning, 
the marquis de Lafayette approached at the head of his division, 
to relieve him. The baron refused to quit the trenches, assigning 
as a reason the etiquette in Europe, that the oflTer to capitulate had 
been made during his tour of duty, and that it was a point of 
honor of which he would not deprive his troops, to remain in the 
trenches till the capitulation was signed or hostilities recommenced. 
The dispute was referred to the commander-in-chief, and the baron 
was permitted to remain till the British flag was struck. While 
on his duty, the baron, perceiving himself in danger from a shell 



374 STEUBEN. 

thrown from the enemy, threw himself suddenly into the trench; 
general Wayne, in the jeopardy and hurry of the moment, fell on 
him; the baron, turning his eyes, saw it was his brigadier: "I al- 
ways knew you were brave, general," said he, "but I did not know 
you were so perfect in every point of duty; you cover your gen- 
eral's retreat in the best manner possible.' " — Thach. Mil. Jour. 
The Baron returned to the northward, and remained with the ar- 
my, continually employed, till the peace, in perfecting its discipline. 
"At the disbandment of the revolutionary army, when inmates 
of the same tent, or hut, for seven long years, were separating and 
probably forever; grasping each other's hand, in silent agony, I 
saw," says Dr. Thacher in his Military Journal, "the baron's 
strong endeavors to throw some ray of sunshine on the gloom, to 
mix some drops of cordial with the painful draught. To go, they 
knew not whither; all recollection of the art to thrive by civil oc- 
cupations, lost, or to the youthful never known. Their hard-earned 
military knowledge worse than useless, and with their badge of 
brotherhood, a mark at which to point the finger of suspicion — igno- 
ble, vile suspicion! to be cast out on a wide world, long since 
by them forgotten. Severed from friends and all the joys and 
griefs which soldiers feel! Griefs, while hope remained — when 
shared by numbers, almost joys ! To fjo in silence and alone, and 
poor and hopeless ; it was too hard ! On that sad day, how many 
hearts were wrung! I saw it all, nor will the scene be ever blur- 
red or blotted from my view. To a stern old officer, a lieutenant- 
colonel Cochran, from the Green Mountains, who had met dangei 
and difficulty in almost every step, from his youth, and from whose 
furrowed visage, a tear, till that moment had never fallen ; the 
good baron said what could be said, to lessen deep distress. For 
myself, said Cochran, "I care not, I can stand it; but my wife and 
daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern. I know not 
where to remove, nor have I means for their removal I" "Come 
my friend," said the baron, "let us go — I will pay my respects to 
Mrs. Cochran and your daughters, if you please." "I followed 
to the loft, the lower rooms being all filled with soldiers, with drunk- 
enness, despair and blasphemy. And when the baron left the poor 
unhappy castaways, he left hope with them, and all he had to 
give." A black man, with wounds unhealed, wept on the wharf; 



STEUBEN. 375 

(for it was at Newbiirg where this tragedy was acting) — there was 
a vessel in the stream, bound to the place where he once had 
friends. He had not a dollar to pay his passage, and he could not 
walk. Unused to tears, I saw them trickle down this good man's 
cheeks as he put into the hands of the black man, the last dollar 
he possessed! The negro hailed the sloop, and cried, "God Al- 
mighty bless you, master baron!" 

The following anecdote is highly creditable to the magnanimity 
and honorable feelings of the baron. 

The baron was a strict disciplinarian. One day on a march, 
some disorder occurred in the ranks, which would have been of a 
serious character, had it taken place during battle. This disorder 
was erroneously attributed by the baron, to the misconduct of a 
young ensign. The ensign was immediately ordered to the rear 
as a mark of disgrace. He retired under the deepest mortifica- 
tion. As soon as opportunity presented, the colonel of the regi- 
ment represented the affair in its true light to Steuben. "Order 

ensign to come to the front,"' was his prompt command , 

When the young man made his appearance, the baron pulled oft' 
his hat, and in the presence of the whole army, made a dignified 
and ingenious apology for the wound he had inflicted upon him. 
No eye among the soldiers was unwet, while the baron stood un- 
covered, the rain beating upon his bald head, and repaired the in- 
jury he had done to the feelings of a brother officer so much infe- 
rior to him in rank. Here was true greatness and magnanimity, 
for the wise man hath declared, "greater is he that ruleth his own 
spirit, than he that taketh a city." 

What good and honorable man, civil or military, before the ac- 
cursed party spirit murdered friendships, did not respect and love 
the baron ? Who most? Those who knew him best. After the 
peace, the baron retired to a farm in the vicinity of New- York, 
where, with forming a system for the organization and discipline 
of the militia, books, chess, and the frequent visits of his nume- 
rous friends, he passed his time as agreeably as a frequent want of 
funds would permit. The state of New-Jersey, had given him a 
small improved farm, and the state of New-York, gave him a tract 
of sixteen thousand acres of land in the county of Oneida. After 
(he general government was in full operation, by the exertions of 



376 STEUBEN. 

colonel Hamilton, patronized and enforced by president Washing- 
ton, a grant of two thousand five hundred dollars per annum was 
made to him for life. The summers were now chiefly spent on his 
land, and his winters in the city. His sixteen thousand acres of 
land were in the uncultivated wilderness; he built a convenient 
log house, cleared sixteen acres, parcelled out his land on easy 
terms to twenty or thirty tenants, distributed nearly a tenth of the 
tract in gifts to his aid-de-camp and servants, and sat himself down 
to a certain degree contented without society, except that of a 
young gentleman who read to and with him. He ate only at din- 
ner, but he ate with strong appetite. In drinking he was always 
temperate; indeed he was free from every vicious habit. His 
powers of mind and body were strong, and he received, to a certain 
extent, a liberal education. His days were undoubtedly shortened 
by his sedentary mode of life. He was seized with an apoplexy, 
which in a few hours was fatal. Agreeably to his desire, often 
expressed, he was wrapped in his cloak, placed in a plain coffin, 
and hid in the earth, without a stone to tell where he lies. A (ew 
neighbors, his servants, the young gentleman, his late companion, 
and one on whom for fifteen years, his countenance never ceased 
to beam with kindness, followed to the grave. It was in a thick, 
a lonely wood, but in a few years after, a public highway was open- 
ed near or over the hallowed sod ! Colonel Walker snatched the 
poor remains of his dear friend from sacrilegious violation, and 
gave a bounty to protect the grave in which he laid them, from 
rude and impious intrusion. He died in 1795, in the 65th year of 
his age." — Thacher's Military Journal. 

Baron Steuben, possessed profound and extensive professional 
knowledge, the result of much study and experience, which was 
united with a competent share of general science and intelligence, 
matured by great experience ; he was accomplished in his man- 
ners, correct in his morals, and was sincerely attached to the dear- 
est interests of humanity. His system of discipline and tactics 
was adopted in the militia of the United States, and continued to 
be used for a great number of years ; and had a very e.xtensive 
and salutary influence in promoting discipline and knowledge of 
the use of arms. 



KOSCIUSKO. 377 

KOSCIUSKO, 

Colonel in the American Army. 
When the fame of our revolutionary struggle reached Europe, 
it drew to our standard many distinguished foreigners, men of con- 
siderable military science, who nobly lent their aid to an infant 
people, struggling in defence of their liberties, in what was sup- 
posed by many to be an unequal contest. Kosciusko, one of the 
first and bravest of the Polish patriots, was among the most cele- 
brated and disinterested of this number. AUhough it does not 
appear that he performed much, or any important service in the 
American war; yet, from his distinguished character as a patriot, 
and the noble struggles he had made in defence of the indepen- 
dence of his own country, a sketch of his life must be interesting, 
and properly belongs to a work containing the memoirs of the mil- 
itary heroes of the American revolutionary war. 

This high-minded patriot was first distinguished in the war 
which terminated in the dismemberment of Poland by Russia, 
Austria, and Prussia. Poland had long been distracted with dis- 
sentions, often breaking out into civil war; and particularly since 
the conquest of the country by Charles XII. of Sweden, which led 
to the interference of Russia; and afterward that dangerous neigh- 
bor always had a strong party in Poland, and generally a control. 
ling influence. Charles XII. conquered Augustus, and compelled 
him to abdicate in favor of Stanislaus Leczinski, whom he had 
previously caused to be elected king. The armies of the czar, 
which Augustus had availed hiniself of, had not been sufficient to 
save him from this humiliating result. The battle of Pultowa 
overthrew the power of Charles, and Augustus was restored by 
the aid of Russia, the latter taking care to be well paid for its 
friendly interference. During the reign of this prince and his 
son, Augustus II. Poland was little better than a Russian province, 
surrounded by Russian troops; and the country being torn to 
pieces by contentions among the nobles, they were kept on the 
throne only by the power of Russia. 

On the death of Augustus II. in 1764, Catharine II. empress of 
Russia, compelled the diet to elect Stanislaus Poniatowski, a Pole 
of noble rank, who had resided for some time at Petersburgh, and 
33 



378 KOSCIUSKO. 

made himself agreeable to the empress, who supposed that his 
election would promote the influence and designs of Russia. This 
increased the disorders, and inflamed the rage of the two great 
parties, the Russian and anti-Russian, towards each other. At 
this time, to their political causes of dissension, were added those 
of religion. The Protestants, who in Poland were called Dissi- 
dents, had long been tolerated, but still suffered under many civil 
disabilities, which were greatly increased by a decree that was 
passed during the interregnum that preceded the election of Poni- 
atowski. They were, in a great measure, denied the free exercise 
of religious worship, and excluded from all political "privileges. — 
This unjust and impolitic measure roused the spirit of the Pro- 
testants : they petitioned and remonstrated ; they applied to the 
courts of Russia, Prussia, Great Britain, and Denmark, all of which 
remonstrated to the government of Poland, but without any essen- 
tial effect. Some unimportant concessions were made, which did 
not satisfy the Dissidents, who were determined to maintain their 
rights with their blood, being encouraged to this determination by 
assurance of support from Russia, Austria, and Prussia. The Ca- 
tholics were not behind their opponents in preparations for war; 
and the "confederation of the Barr" formed the bulwark of their 
strength and hopes. With both parties, "Religion and liberty" 
became the watchword, and a signal for war. The confederates, 
as the Catholics were denominated, not only wished to overcome 
tkeir opponents, but to dethrone Stanislaus, and rescue the country 
iVom the influence of Russia. This desperate civil v.'ar was very 
gratifying to the ambitious neighbors of Poland, who, a consider- 
able lime before, had entered into a secret treaty for the conquest 
and partition of Poland. The armies of Russia, Prussia, and Aus- 
tria, invaded the country in various directions, and seized upon 
different provinces. 

The confederates, or the anti-Russian party, comprising most of 
the distinguished Polish patriots, made a resolute and determined 
struggle; but being feebly supported by Saxony and France, and 
having to contend with numerous forces of the coalition which 
invaded the country, as well as those of their opponents at home, 
they were defeated in every quarter, and the country left a prey 
to the three royal plunderers. They issued a manifesto, declaring 



KOSCIUSKO. 37'9 

that the dissensions and disorders of Poland had rendered their 
interference necessary, and that they had adopted combined mea- 
sures for the re-establishment of good order in Poland, and the set- 
tlement of its ancient constitution, and to secure the national and 
popular liberties of the people on a solid basis. But the security 
and protection which they afforded to unhappy Poland, was like 
that which the wolf affords to the Iamb; and the tears they shed 
over her misfortunes, were like those of the crocodile when prey- 
ing on its victim. Instead of securing the rights of the Dissidents, 
■which was the professed object of the war, the combined sover- 
eigns thought only of aggrandizing themselves; and, after great 
difficulty, they finally succeeded in dividing the spoil ; a treaty 
for the partition of Poland being concluded at Petersburgh in Fe- 
bruary, 1772. Russia took a large proportion of the eastern 
provinces ; Austria appropriated to herself a fertile tract on the 
southwest, and Prussia the commercial district in the northwest, 
including the lower part of the Vistula ; leaving only the central 
provinces, comprising Warsaw and Cracow, the modern and an- 
cient capital. Thus was Poland despoiled by three royal robbers, 
■which Europe witnessed, not without astonishment, but without an 
effectual interference. The courts of London, Paris, Stockholm, 
and Copenhagen, remonstrated against this violent usurpation, 
■which probably had as much effect as was expected — none at all. 
In this unjust and cruel war, Kosciusko had taken an active and 
zealous part in defence of the independence of his country ; but 
his patriotism and exertions were unavailing; the patriotic Poles 
could not resist the power of faction, and the invading armies of 
three formidable neighbors. To strengthen acquisitions, the allied 
powers insisted on Stanislaus convoking a diet to sanction the par- 
tition ; and, notwithstanding the influence of three powerful armies, 
the diet refused to ratify this injustice for a considerable time ; but, 
by promises of favors, and by profuse use of money among the 
members, together with the influence of militarj^ force, a majority 
of six in the senate, and of one in the assembly, was at length ob- 
tained in favor of the iniquitous measure, and commissioners were 
appointed to adjust the terms of the partition. This completed 
the humiliation and degradation of Poland, and occasioned many 
of her most distinguished patriots to leave their dismembered and 



380 KOSCIUSKO. 

unhappy country. This took place in May, 1773. Kosciusko 
was among those who retired from the country. 

The war that broke out between the American colonies and 
Great Britain, opened a field for military adventurers from Europe, 
it being supposed that America was destitute of men of military 
science and experience ; and being justly regarded as a contest for 
liberty, between an infant people, few in number, and with feeble 
means, and the most powerful nation on earth, many patriots of the 
old world repaired to America, as volunteers in the cause of free- 
dom. The first events and successes of the contest, and the dig- 
nified attitude assumed by the solemn declaration of independence, 
produced the most favorable impression abroad, which brought ma- 
ny distinguished foreigners to our shores in the early part of the 
year 1777. The distinguished Polish patriot, who is the subject 
of this brief notice, and his countryman, count Pulaski, were 
among the number. It is not known at what time either of them 
arrived, but it is believed it was early in the year 1777, as the lat- 
ter was present and distinguished himself in the battle of Brandy- 
wine. So many foreigners of distinction arrived, that congress was 
embarrassed in giving them employment corresponding with their 
expectations and rank ; and from the commissions which were given 
to foreigners, disagreeable jealousies were produced among the 
native officers of the continental army. Kosciusko, like the mar- 
quis de Lafayette and others, had been influenced wholly by pat- 
riotic motives and an ardent attachment to liberty ; he had no occa- 
sion to acquire military fame, and he possessed a soul which raised 
him infinitely above becoming a mercenary soldier. He wanted 
neither rank nor emolument; his object was to sei've the cause, not 
to serve himself He, however, received a colonel's commission, 
and was employed under general Greene, in the southern cam- 
paign of 1781. In the attack on Ninety-Six, a very strong post 
of the enemy in South Carolina, Kosciusko being a skilful engi- 
neer, Greene intrusted to him the important duty of preparing 
and constructing the works for the siege. He continued in the 
service until after the capture of Cornwallis at York-town, which 
terminated all the important operations of the war. 

On leaving America, Kosciusko returned to his native country, 
where he exerted himself for the improvement of the political 



KOSCIUSKO. 381 

condition of his countrymen, and promoting the general prosperity. 
Stanislaus exerted himself to improve what territory was left him 
by his friendly neighbors ; a taste for agriculture was cherished ; 
the condition of the peasantry, who had been so long enslaved and 
degraded, was raised ; and a national system of education estab- 
lished. But the most important improvement was in the constitution 
of the state. The disorders and factions which had so long and so 
unhappily prevailed, had convinced all enlightened patriots, that 
the existing constitution was the fertile source of their internal 
dissensions ; and that it was incompatible with the tranquility or 
prosperity of the countrj'. After repeated attempts, the diet, in 
1791, succeeded in establishing a new constitution on just and libe- 
ral principles, so wisely framed, that Mr. Burke commended it, 
by saying that the condition of all was made better, and the rights 
of none infringed. 

But the prosperity and hopes which these improvements were 
calculated to afford, were soon dissipated. Poland was again des- 
tined to become the victim of the "she bear" of the North. A few 
of the nobles, disaffected at the new constitution, which had de- 
prived them of some of their privileges, presented their com- 
plaints to the court of Petersburgh, which, glad of a pretext for 
interfering in the afTairs of Poland, immediately marched a nume- 
rous army into the country, for the ostensible object ol' re-estab- 
lishing the constitution of 1772. But the real designs of Russia, 
were too apparent to be mistaken ; and the Poles did not delay in 
making preparations for hostilities. This base aggression, and 
the remembrance of her former rapacity, aroused the nation to a 
sense of its danger; all dissensions and animosities were forgotten 
in the common struggle; a spirit worJhy the occasion was excited, 
and every class and rank were resolved to conquer or die in de- 
fence of the independence and liberties of their country. The 
nobles presented their plate and valuable jewels to enrich the trea- 
sury, and afford the means of carrying on the war. The prince 
Poniatowski, nephew of the king, and Kosciusko, were at the head 
of the armies, and displayed prodigies of valor. But with all their 
exertions, bravery, and perseverance, they were unable to resist 
the power of Russia, whose armies were almost every where suc- 
cessful. And being threatened by the empress, with a devastation 
33* 



382 KOSCIUSKO. 

of" the country, if he made further resistance, and that she would 
double her present force, Stanislaus, to prevent further effusion of 
blood, surrendered at discretion, and was conveyed to Grodno, to 
await the decision of the conqueror. Neither the king nor the na- 
tion, were long kept in suspense, for soon the courts of Russia and 
Prussia, promulgated a manifesto,^ declaring their intention of an- 
nexing to their dominions several of the adjoining provinces of 
Poland. This was early in the year 1793, 

Not satisfied Avith their former spoliations, the king of Prussia 
and empress of Russia, resolved to lighten the burdens of gov- 
ermnent, which they believed too heavy for Stanislaus to sustain, 
by a second partition of his kingdom. Accordingly the latter 
seized on the country from the Dwina to theNeister; and assuming 
the civil government of the territory, the inhabitants were ordered 
to take the oath of allegiance to her imperial majesty, or abandon 
the conquered district; and the king of Prussia, not to be behind 
his ally in a neighborly regard for Poland, wrested from it several 
provinces, besides the cities of Dantzic and Thorn. These high- 
handed depredations were made with the assent of the emperor of 
Austria, and pretended to be necessary precautions against the 
contagion of jacobinal principles, which might otherwise infect 
their dominions bordering on Poland. Again a diet was convoked, 
and compelled, by military power, to sanction this second partition 
of the Polish dominions. The Russian ambassador informed the 
diet, "that to prevent any kind of disorder,.he had caused two bat- 
talions of grenadiers, with four pieces of cannon, to surround the 
castle, to secure the traivquility of their deliberations." But al- 
though the country had been rent in pieces, the spirit of the nation 
was not destroyed; and as long as a particle remained, such injus- 
tice and violence was calculated to call it into action. The nation 
was roused, and the patriotism of the Polish nobles was once more 
called forth. It was readily perceived that nothing could be done 
without a leader, and the eyes of all were directed to Kosciusko, 
who had taken refuge in Saxony, with Potocki, Kolontay, and Za- 
jonzek. These four resolute patriots rejoiced at the spirit of re- 
sistance to oppression, which was roused among their countrymen, 
and were prepared to exert all their energies, and to shed the last 
drop of their blood for the independence and freedom of their op- 



KOSCIUSKO. 383 

pressed and much injured country. Zajonzek was despatched to 
Warsaw, to learn the state of affairs, to confer with the chief mal- 
contents, and concert the plan of operations. And in the mean- 
time, Kosciusko repaired to the frontiers, and anxiously waited 
the result of this mission. It was determined to make an attempt 
to rescue the country from the slavery of Russian domination ; but 
suspicions of the design having been excited, it was thouglit ad- 
visable that no movements should be made at that time. Kosciusko 
retired to Italy for greater safety, where he was soon joined by 
Zajonzek, who had been banished from the Polish territories as a 
promoter of sedition. He informed Kosciusko that his countrymen 
were ripe for a revolt, and that they wished to have him appear 
without dela}^, as a more favorable opportunity would not occur. 
The ambitious designs of Russia were no longer concealed : the 
ambassador of the empress ordered the constitution of 1791, an- 
nulled, and the military force of Poland reduced to sixteen thou- 
send men ; thus intending to deprive the nation of all power of re- 
sistance. The patriotic Mondalinski, placing himself at their head, 
the troops were invincible, and refused to lay down their arms. 
The spirit of resistance was spread through the country, and the 
ardor of the nation roused to the highest pitch. The Russians, to 
enforce their mandates, sent a numerous army into the country, 
whose ruthless conduct drove the Pol.es to desperation. The pea- 
santry were compelled to feed, lodge, and convey their enemies 
from place to place, without compensation, and thus to become the 
instruments of enslaving their own country. The severe and 
cruel treatment exasperated the public feeling, and the spirit of 
revenge and resistance became inveterate and universal. 

At this time, the great patriot and hero, to whom all looked as a 
leader, appeared, and was immediately appointed generalissimo 
of the patriot army, and chief of the confederacy. He took the 
oath of fidelity to the nation, and of adherence to the act of in- 
surrection, by which war was declared against the ruthless inva- 
ders of the rights and independence of Poland. Like Washing- 
ton, he had conferred on him such ample powers, as, in the pos- 
session of any other man, would have been a source of jealousy, 
if not of real danger; but his country had the most unbounded 
confidence in Kosciusko, which was not misplaced. He issued a 



384 KOSCIUSKO. 

proclamation, containing an appeal to every rank and class of the 
people, to rally round the standard of their country and of freedom, 
and to break the chains which enslaved them, or perish in the at- 
tempt. This appeal was not made in vain : he was soon sur- 
rounded by a large number of armed peasantry; and the nobility 
having proclaimed the constitution of 1791, departed to their res- 
pective estates, to bring their vassals into the field. The Russians 
were soon driven out of Cracow, which became the head-quar- 
ters of the patriot army. A Russian force of six thousand men 
marching toward Cracow, under general Woronzow, to attack the 
patriots, was engaged by their brave leader, and defeated with 
the loss of one thousand men, and eleven pieces of cannon, and 
their general made prisoner. This splendid success became the 
signal for general hostilities, and had the most favorable influence. 
The Russian general, Igelstrom, attempted to make himself mas- 
ter of the arsenal at Warsaw, but was resolutely repelled by the 
inhabitants, who, after a bloody contest of three days, drove the 
Russians from the city, with the loss of more than fifteen hundred 
men. The enemy retired to the camp of the Prussidn general. 
Wolki. 

In other towns the inhabitants displayed similar bravery and 
resolution, and in many, their exertions were successful. These 
successes served. to inspire confidence, and to animate the most 
desponding; the whole country was soon in arms, and sixty thous- 
and troops were in the field, exclusive of the peasantry, who were 
armed with pikes. These movements filled with astonishment the 
courts of Petersburg and Berlin, who had flattered themselves that 
Poland was so far humbled, and the spirit of the nation so broken, 
that it had no longer the power to make any resistance. Being 
exasperated at this unexpected resistance, Catharine and Freder- 
ick madc'great exertions to overcome the insurgents, as they called 
them, and to defend the country they had forcibly annexed to 
their own dominions. These two powers marched one hundred 
and ten thousand men into Poland, all regular and well disciplined 
troops, which gave them a decided superiority. Kosciusko, how- 
ever, made a skilful retreat upon Warsaw, where he was besieged 
by a large Prussian army. He defended the place for ten weeks, 
when, after sustaining a loss of twenty thousand men, the Prus- 



KOSCIUSKO. 385 

sian commander was obliged to raise the siege and retire to his 
own territories. During this siege, the Russians had overrun 
Lithuania and Volhynia; and Kosciusko being at Uberty, marched 
to oppose them. The eyes of Europe and America were fixed on 
him, as this was justly viewed as the last struggle of an oppressed 
but brave people; all who loved hberty, or regarded justice, felt 
an ardent desire for their success ; and from the noble spirit which 
pervaded the nation, and from the victories which had been a- 
chieved, great hopes were entertained. These, however^ were 
too soon found to be fallacious ; fortune did not favor the patriot 
chief, and Poland was destined to fall, and to be erased from the 
map of nations. Kosciusko and his brave companions in arm?, 
fighting for their liberty, the independence of their country, the 
safety of their wives and children, displayed feats of bravery and 
determined perseverance worthy of the sacred cause in which 
they were engaged, with the disciplined but ferocious barbarians 
of the north. 

The battle of Mackijowice, the most bloody and most fatal to 
the Poles, lasted an entire day, the Russians were twice repulsed, 
and prodigies of valor rendered the fortune of the day doubtful, 
when Kosciusko fell senseless, pierced with wounds. He had 
made his attendants swear not to abandon him living to the power 
of the Russians, and it is asserted that some Polish horsemen, not 
being able to rescue his body, struck him with their sabres on the 
head and left him for dead on the field of battle. The Cosaques 
were already prepared to strip his body, when he was recognized 
by some officers. As soon as the name of Kosciusko was pro- 
nounced, even the Cosaques themselves, testified the respect due 
to courage and misfortune. All the aid of art was lavished on 
him and he was treated with the greatest regard. But an order 
soon arrived to have him transported to Petersburg, where Catha- 
rine, who was sometimes generous, but then too much irritated to 
be so, had him plunged into a dungeon. He would, without doubt, 
have terminated his career in prison, or augmented the number of 
wretched Poles who already languished in the deserts of Siberia, 
if the death of the empress had not come to change his destiny. 
One of the first acts of Paul I., was to render homage to the vir- 
tues of Kosciusko. He not only immediately set him at liberty, 



386 KOSCIUSKO. 

but granted him a pension, which the noble Pole would not touch, 
and the brevet of which he sent back as soon as he reached a soil 
beyond the fear of Russian influence. 

The last vial of wrath was poured out on Poland, and her fate 
was irrevocably sealed: — 

"0/?.' bloodiest picture in the hook of time! 
Sarmatia fell unv^ept, without a crime, 
Found not a gcnerousfriend, a pitying foe, 
Strength in her arms, or mercy in her wo; 
Dropp''d from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, 
Closed her bright eye and ciirVd her high career; — 
Hope for a season hade the world farewell ; 
And freedom shrielc'd as Kosciusko felV 

The whole country was now in the possession of the Russians 
and Prussians, except Warsaw, where the troops of the invaders 
were marching to besiege it. The brave Poles, ^^kw, but undis- 
mayed,'" consisting of not more than ten thousand men, were de- 
termined to make a desperate resistance, and to sell their lives as 
dear as possible. As soon as the Russian army reached the sub- 
urb of Prague, tliey erected during the night several batteries, and 
a furious assault was then commenced. The two first divisions, 
after suffering severely from a vigorous fii'e of the inhabitants for 
more than eight hours, at length overcoming all obstacles, rushed 
into the place, pursued the routed foe through the streets, slaugh- 
tered about two thousand of them, and drove one thousand into the 
Vistula. The entrenchments were every where forced, and the 
streets filled with dead; a regiment of Jews having made an ob- 
stinate defence, were nearly all killed ; the fugitives being pursued 
to the river, which stopped their flight, several thousand were 
massacred. Not satisfied with the slaughter of the battle, about 
ten hours afterward, the ruthless and infamous Suwarrow, the 
Kehgis-Khan of modern times, ordered the city set on fire, and 
delivered the inhabitants up to plunder and massacre. No age, 
sex, or condition was spared, but all were alike exposed to the 
brutal violence of a ferocious soldiery, and were involved in one 
common ruin. Slore than fifteen thousand persons were killed 
or drowned, and about the same number were made prisoners ; a 
majority of whom were soon after released. Humanity weeps 



KOSCIUSKO. 387 

ovt is horrid scene, and Christianity blushes that sr.ch savage 
mor rs should assume the name. 

W ii his numerous wounds were healed, Kosciusko repaired 
to A rica, where he was received as a citizen should be, who 
had b< n lavish of -his blood in two worlds for the sacred cause of 
liberty. In 1798 he returned to France, where the same honors 
awaited him,- at Paris every faction united in celebrating his arri- 
val, and his countrymen of the army of Italy having found, at the 
taking of Loretto, the sabre of an ancient defender of Poland and 
Germany, John Sobiesky, who had vanquished the Turks under 
the walls of Vienna,judged Kosciusko alone worthy of possessing 
the weapon, and sent it to him. Kosciusko preferred the sojourn 
of France to any other, and remained there a long time, without 
accepting, however, any employment. The Polish hero, in a 
humble rt;treat in the country, occupied his leisure hours in rustic 
labor, and like the great Conde at Chantilla, amused himself with 
the cuituie of flowers. But he did not cease to be attentive to the 
desire of his country, and to give useful lessons to his fellow citi- 
zens. In 1814, when France was invaded by foreign troops, Kos- 
ciusko happened to be at a country house, in the environs of Fon- 
tainbleau. The commune he inhabited was infested by plunder- 
ing mercenaries; he threw himself among them, protected the cit- 
izens, and indignantly addressed the officers of a Polish regiment 
he met, and whose soldiers were not the least eager in the pillage, 
"When I commanded brave soldiers," exclaimed he, "they did not 
plunder; and I would have severely punished the subalterns who 
would have dared to commit the actions I now witness, and still 
more severely the officers who would authorise them by their blame- 
able indifference." "And who are you that speak with so much 
boldness?" was the question on every side. "I am Kosciusko!" 
At this name, the soldiers threw down their arms, supplicated him 
to pardon the fault they had just been guilty of, prostrating them- 
selves at his feet, and according to the custom of the nation, cov- 
ered their heads with dust. Kosciusko, unable to support the dis- 
mal spectacle that the country he loved next to his own presented 
at this epoch, quitted France, and, after travelling for some time in 
Italy, at last retired to Soleure in Switzerland. It is from thence 
we must date the last remarkable act of his life. 



388 PULASKI. 

In 1817, in the presence of the magistrates, and registe) jy 
a public notary, he abolished slavery on his estate in Polai ie- 
claring free, and exempt from all charges and personal sej es, 
the ancient serfs of his lands. A deplorable accident a sho )me 
after, put an end to his glorious career. His- horse fell ader 
him, and a grievous wound, the consequence of this fall, occasioned 
his death a few days afterwards. The old and new world were 
afflicted by the news. His body was at first deposited in the church 
at Soleure ; but hi^ grateful country soon claimed the remains df 
her greatest son. The Polish ladies, with unanimous accord, put 
on deep mourning, and wore it as for a father. His ashes now 
repose in the metropolitan church of Cracow, between those of 
Sobieski and Poniatowski. A colossal monument will be raised 
to his memory, and the brave of every country have d<isired to 
participate in the expense. But his name will last still lo-'ger than 
the monuments elevated by the hands of men; and ir? glory, 
without a stain, which even misfortune could not sully, will be 
perpetuated from age to age. The name of Kosciusko will be 
pronounced with veneration, as long as there exist beings who 
know virtue, and cherish liberty. 

Kosciusko was a patriot and a philanthropist. When last in this 
country, his humanity prompted him to do something to elevate 
the degraded condition of the free black population. For this pur- 
pose, he intrusted to general Washington and his heirs, fourteen 
thousand dollars, the interest of which was to be appropriated to 
the establishment of a school for free blacks, in order, as he ex- 
pressed it, "to make them better fathers and better mothers, better 
sons and better daughters." This benevolent purpose has never 
been carried into effect. Owing to the cupidity of his heirs in 
Europe, the will was broken, and the money reverted to them. 



COUNT PULASKI. 

Next to Kosciusko may be ranked count Pulaski, another dis- 
tinguished patriot of Poland, whom the fame of our revolutionary 
struggle attracted to our shores as a soldier of liberty, to assist in 
fighting the battles of freedom. He had signalized his patriotism 
and valor in the disastrous war in which his country was engaged 
in 1772, which terminated in the first dismemberment of Poland. 



PULASKI. 389 

This unhappy war originated from internal dissensions, occasioned 
by an unjust and impolitic decree, respecting the privileges of 
the Protestants, as related in the biography of Kosciusko. But 
the original cause of the contest was changed ; and it became, in 
fact, a struggle between the Russian and anti-Russian parties. 

Among the ardent partizans and leaders of the confederates, 
was count Pulaski. By him and other distinguished Poles belong- 
ing to the anti-Russian association, it was believed that Poland 
could never be safe nor tranquil, until it was rescued from the 
paralyzing influence of Russia; and regarding the king (although 
rather unjustly, as subsequent events proved,) as subservient to 
that power, Pulaski conceived and planned the bold enterprise of 
seizing the king, and conveying him to the camp of the confede- 
rates. Matters having been arranged for the execution of this 
daring achievement, Kosinski and other members of the anti-Rus- 
sian association, who were intrusted with its execution, surprised 
and seized the king at Warsaw, although surrounded by a numer- 
ous body of guards, and conveyed him into a neighboring forest. 
But his expostulations and entreaties had such an effect on Kosin- 
ski, that he released him, and saved him from further violence, he 
having been wounded by the assailants. The king was so exas- 
perated, that he declared Pulaski an outlaw. 

The confederates receiving little or no assistance from France 
or Saxony, and the combined powers, Russia, Austria, and Prus- 
sia, filling the country with their troops, the contest resulted as 
might have been expected from the unequal means of the bellige- 
rent parties. The brave Poles were almost every where defeated, 
and the numerous armies of the combined powers overcame all 
resistance, and made themselves masters of the country. Their 
unprincipled designs were no longer disguised ; but they openly 
avowed their intention of seizing on a considerable portion of the 
conquered country, and dividing the spoil among themselves. A 
treaty to this effect having been signed on the 2d of February, 
1772, they immediately ordered the Poles to convoke a diet and 
sanction this violent dismemberment, under a threat of subjecting 
the country to military execution, and treating it as a conquered 
state. By these violent measures, a majority of the diet was con- 
strained to sanction such injustice and rapacity. Many, however, 
34 



390 PULASKI. 

of the noble-minded Poles, rather than to be unwilling instruments 
of bringing their country to ruin, preferred exile and poverty, and 
to avoid witnessing the degradation of their native land, sought 
an asylum abroad. Among this number were count Pulaski and 
the illustrious Kosciusko. 

War breaking out two years after, between the American colo- 
nies and the parent country, this struggle of an infant people 
with their powerful oppressors excited the sympathies of the friends 
of liberty throughout Europe, and invited many patriots to our 
shores, who volunteered their services in the glorious cause. — 
Pulaski and Kosciusko were among the number. They arrived, 
it is believed, early in the year 1777. Pulaski, who had been an 
experienced cavalry officer at home, had a command given him in 
the light-horse. He was first engaged in the battle of the Bran- 
dywine, in which the young marquis de Lafayette and many other 
■ foreigners were employed. Count Pulaski, who commanded a 
party of horse, sustained his high reputation for courage. His 
activity and exertions were conspicuous throughout the engage- 
ment, and he was particularly noticed by the commander-in-chief 
as having distinguished himself; and congress were so much gra- 
tified with his conduct and promise of usefulness, in that branch 
of the service in which he was employed, that they, a few days 
afterwards, appointed him a brigadier-general and commander of 
the horse. He continued with the army in Pennsylvania during 
the remainder of the campaign in 1777. Early the next year, 
when baron Steuben was appointed inspector-general, and great 
exertions were made by Washington to improve the discipline and 
effect a radical reform in the army, count Pulaski was empowered 
to raise an independent legion, which he afterward accomplished, 
and organized and disciplined his men in an excellent manner. — 
In the fall of this year, he was unfortunately surprised by a party 
of the enemy, and sustained considerable loss. Captain Ferguson 
having returned to Egg-Harbor from a predatory incursion, there 
obtained information of some deserters from Pulaski's legion, of 
the situation of that corps, which induced him to attempt to surprise 
and attack it. Accordingly Ferguson, with about two hundred 
and fifty men, embarked in barges in the night, and landed near 
rjvhere a part of Pulaski's legion was quartered, who, being asleep 



PULASKI. 391 

and wholly unprepared and unsuspicious of danger, were fallen 
upon, and about fifty of them massacred, including several officers 
of distinction. Pulaski, having rallied his men as soon as he could, 
made an attempt, without success, to cut off the party, which im- 
mediately retreated to the water. 

In January, 1779, general Lincoln having been appointed to the 
command of the southern department, count Pulaski's light-horse 
were ordered to the south. After the shameful flight of general 
Ashe, the British under general Prevost obtained possession of the 
whole state of Georgia. The appointment about this time of John 
Rutledge, governor of South Carolina, clothed with ample powers, 
produced a favorable effect, and soon changed the gloomy aspect 
of affairs. Lincoln, finding himself at the head of five thousand 
men, again resolved to act on the offensive. He once more crossed 
the Savannah river, and took such a position as would enable him 
to intercept the supplies of the enemy from the back parts of Geor- 
gia ; leaving general Moultrie, with one thousand men, at the Black 
Swamp. Count Pulaski's legion of light-horse, formed a part of 
the force under Lincoln. The American general had no sooner 
made this movement than the British commander determined to 
penetrate into South Carolina. Having collected a force of three 
thousand men, he crossed the river in several places, and traver- 
sing swamps that had been deemed impassable, appeared so unex- 
pectedly, that the militia under general Moultrie, made very little 
resistance, and retreated towards Charleston. 

The British general, who at first probably intended his move- 
ment only as a feint to draw Lincoln back from his expedition, 
emboldened by this success, resolved to push on to the capital of 
South Carolina. He accordingly marched in pursuit of the retreat- 
ing militia, and coming up with colonel Laurens, who had been 
left with a party to defend a bridge, after a sharp conflict for some 
time, in which Laurens was wounded, compelled the Americans 
to retire, and continued his march. General Lincoln, judging that 
the movement of Prevost was only a feint to draw him back, des- 
patched colonel Harrison, with three hundred continentals, to 
reinforce Moultrie, and continued to march towards the capital of 
Georgia; but three days after, being convinced that the British 
general meditated a serious attack upon Charleston, Lincoln turned 



392 PULASKI. 

about and retraced his steps. Count Pulaski's legion of light- 
troops were immediately ordered on to join general Moultrie, who 
moved with such rapidity that they came up with him before he 
reached Charleston, and in conjunction with parties of militia, 
made repeated stands on the retreat, and skirmished with the ad- 
vance guard of the enemy, which seemed to check their march. 
General Moultrie and colonel Harrison reached Charleston on the 
9th of May ; and governor Rutledge, with a body of militia which 
had been stationed at Orangeburgh, as a reserve, on the 10th; 
Pulaski arrived with his legion on the 11th; and on the same day 
near one thousand of the enemy came up, crossed the ferry of 
Ashley-river, and advanced towards the town. 

Pulaski immediately conceived a plan to draw the enemy into 
an ambuscade ; as soon as they approached, he marched at the 
head of a single company of infantry, and posted them behind a 
breastwork which had previously been thrown up in a valley, with 
orders to remain concealed ; he then returned, and placing himself 
at the head of a small party of horse, sallied out and advanced a 
mile beyond the concealed infantry, with a view to draw the 
enemy's cavalry into action, intending after a slight skirmish, to 
retreat, and thus draw the enemy's cavalry within the reach of the 
concealed infantry. But the object was defeated by the ardor of 
the infantry; disregarding their orders, they rushed out from be- 
hind the breastwork to join the attack, in consequence of which, 
being inferior in numbers to the British, Pulaski was obliged to 
retreat. The enemy pressed hard upon them, but they were met 
and resisted in the most intrepid manner by Pulaski, whose exam- 
ple animated his men to deeds of heroism worthy of their brave 
leader. After this, several skirmishes during the day and suc- 
ceeding night occurred between the cavalry of the two hostile 
parties, in all of which, Pulaski's legion, led on by their intrepid 
chief, displayed a coolness and bravery which has seldom been sur- 
passed, and which reflected great honor on their gallant comman- 
der, whose exertions and example stimulated his brave men to 
noble deeds. Perhaps a braver man than Pulaski never drew a 
sword. During these various encounters he was repeatedly en- 
gaged in single combat with individuals of the enemy, and some- 
times with fearful odds. In the meantime the troops within the 



PULASKI. 393 

lown, and the inhabitants of all ages and both sexes, were actively 
employed in strengthening their defences. 

On the next day, the 12th, the town was summoned to surren- 
der, and although the conditions offered were considered favorable, 
they were not accepted, and the negotiation was protracted through 
the day, by which means further time was obtained for improving 
the means of defending the city. On the 13th, a most extraordi- 
nary proposition was submitted to the British commander, which 
was, that the whole state would remain neutral during the war, 
and its ultimate destiny to depend on the peace. If any thing 
could exceed the pusillanimity and folly of this proposition, it was 
the conduct of general Prevostin refusing to accept it, and imme- 
diately breaking up his camp and retreating without farther nego- 
tiation, or making any attempt upon the town. 

General Lincoln pursued the enemy to Stony-Ferry, where, on 
the 20th of June, he attacked a part of Prevost's force under colo. 
nel Maitland, and sustained a sharp conflict for an hour and a hal f 
with great advantage, when the enemy receiving a reinforcement, 
the Americans were compelled to retire, and being hard pressed 
with fresh troops, considerable confusion ensued, at which juncture 
Pulaski's horse charged the enemy with such gallantry and spirit 
as checked their advance and enabled Mason's Virginia brigade 
to move up and cover the retreat. 

In the unfortunate siege of Savannah, count Pulaski was en- 
gaged with his legion, and displayed his accustomed activity and 
valor, which, however, proved fatal, and terminated his military 
and earthly career. The unexpected appearance of the French 
fleet on the American coast, alarmed the British forces in Georgia. 
On the 13th oC September, 1779, the count d'Estaing landed three 
thousand men at Beaulieu, which, on the 15th, were joined by 
count Pulaski with his legion ; but the rest of the troops under 
general Lincoln, from the difficulties of the route, did not arrive 
until the 16th, when the allied armies united in front of the town 
of Savannah. Previously to this, count d'Estaing had appeared 
with his fleet before the town, and summoned the garrison to sur- 
render. General Prevost artfully replied by requesting a truce for 
four-and-twenty hours to adjust the terms of capitulation ; his only 
object, however, being to obtain time to strengthen his works and 
34* 



394 PULASKI. 

means of defence. This request unfortunately was granted, and 
the time was employed by the besieged in the most active exertions ; 
and within the time general Prevost was reinforced by the arrival 
of his outposts, which increased his force one-third. At the close 
of the truce, Prevost informed the count that he should defend 
himself to the last extremity. On the 23d, the allied armies broke 
ground for the siege, and proceeded in their work with great 
activity. In ten days, more than fifty pieces of battering cannon 
and fourteen mortars were mounted, which were opposed by nearly 
one hundred of different sizes, and on the 4th of October, a tre- 
mendous fire was commenced upon the town. After the batteries 
had played on the town for several days without much effect, count 
d'Estaing, being anxious about the safety of his fleet if the siege 
should be prolonged, proposed to change the plan of operations, 
and make an attempt upon the town by storm. This Lincoln was 
obliged to agree to, as otherwise the count threatened to abandon 
the siege altogether. Unfortunately, information of the intended 
assault was conveyed to Prevost by an officer who deserted from 
the Charleston volunteers, which enabled him to prepare for it. 
Savannah is protected from an attack by land, by the river on one 
side, and a deep morass on the other, extending parallel with the 
river in the rear of the town. The assault .was made on the 
morning of the 9th, before day-light, by two columns, on the ene- 
my''s right ; one commanded by count d'Estaing and general Lin- 
coln in concert, and the other by count Dillon. The former moved 
along the margin of the morass, covered by the darkness, to within 
a short distance of the enemy's line, when their concealed batteries 
being unmasked, a destructive fire was opened upon them, which 
made great havoc. Undismayed by this slaughter, the column 
continued to advance, and d'Estaing and Lincoln forced the abattis, 
and placed their standards on the parapet. At this time, had the 
other column came up, the assault would have succeeded, and the 
possession of the enemy's works been certain; but count Dillon 
unfortunately lost his way in the darkness, and failed in affording 
the expected co-operation. At this crisis, colonel Maitland made 
a vigorous attack on the brave soldiers who had planted their 
standards on the parapet, who were forced into the ditch, the flags 
torn down, and the whole column compelled to retire through the 



DE KALB. 395 

abattis. This disastrous result of the attack would probably have 
been avoided, but for the fatal termination of the gallant career of 
the brave Pulaski. At the moment colonel Maitland, with his own 
corps united with the marines and grenadiers under lieutenant- 
colonel Grazier, pushed forward to attack the assailants, Pulaski, 
perceiving the danger to which the allied column was placed, made 
a bold effort, at the head of two hundred horse, to force his way 
through the enemy's works, and gain the rear of Maitland, which 
would have placed that brave and skilful officer in a critical situ- 
ation, and, in all probability, have changed the fate of the day ; 
but, while advancing at the head of his men, exposed to the most 
tremendous fire, the intrepid Pulaski, received a mortal wound, 
and fell from his horse. The fall of their heroic leader stopped 
the progress of the squadron, and they immediately retreated. — 
He lived two days, and expired on the 11th of October, 1779. 
Thus fell, in a most bold and daring achievement, the distinguished 
Polish patriot and hero, in the cause of American liberty ; his 
memory is entitled to our veneration, as his life forms an item in 
the price of our independence. Soon after, congress resohed that 
a monument should be erected to his memory ; but this paper statue, 
and the heroic deeds of a bold and adventurous life, constitute the 
only monument that has been erected to his memory, or which 
serves to perpetuate his fame. 



BARON DE KALB, 
iMajok-Genekal in the American Abmy. 
BAROiN UE Kalb was a native of Germany, but having long 
been employed in the service of France, previous to the com- 
mencement of the American revolution, he possessed the charac- 
ter of a French officer, if not of a French citizen, when he came 
to the United States. He arrived here in 1777, and being an 
officer ot great experience and undoubted courage, he received 
the commission of major-general from congress. Early in the 
year following he was selected as one of the officers in the expe- 
dition which had been planned against Canada, and proceeded to 
Albany to engage in the enterprise, the command of which was 
intrusted to the young marquis de Lafayette ,* but the preparations 



390 DK KALB. 

being wholly inadequate, the expedition was abandoned. General 
Conway and Stark were also to have joined in the enterprise. 

In the summer of 1780, after the surrender of Charleston, and 
the submission of the whole of South Carolina to the royal au- 
thority, and all resistance in that quarter had nearly ceased, the 
baron de Kalb was ordered by congress to the south, to revive a 
spirit of resistance, and arrest, if possible, the prevailing fortunes 
of the victorious enemy. The situation of the southern states, 
at this time, was truly alarming; Georgia and South Carolina were 
conquered, and North Carolina was quiet, and apparently over- 
awed; and congress felt the necessity of directing their attention, 
in a particular manner, to that quarter, and of making every pos- 
sible effort to retrieve their fallen fortunes in that department of 
the war. The ordering of baron de Kalb, at that time, to that 
station, is a strong evidence of the confidence congress reposed in 
his talents. General Gates, whose reputation at this time was, 
perhaps, second to that of no officer except the commander-in- 
chief, was appointed to the chief command in the southern depart- 
ment; and great hopes were indulged from the exertions of two 
such distinguished generals. Baron de Kalb arrived at Hillsbo- 
rough, in North Carolina, at the head of two thousand continen- 
tals, consisting of the Maryland and Delaware lines. His ap- 
proach revived the despondent hopes, and animated the drooping 
spirits of the inhabitants; the militia flocked to his standard from 
North Carolina and Virginia, and were soon organized and pre- 
pared to join him on his march. He had not proceeded far before 
he was overtaken by general Gates, who assumed the chief com- 
mand; and this increased the joy which had already been e.xcited. 
and produced sanguine hopes of a successful campaign. The as- 
pect of affairs was at once changed ; the gloom of despondency 
was succeeded by the brightening rays of high expectations, which 
counteracted the effects of the proclamations of Clinton and Corn- 
wallis, and brought many to the American standard, who, a short 
time before, had exchanged their paroles for the oath of allegiance. 
General Gates, relying on these favorable circumstances, and 
not sufficiently cautious, seemed only desirous of meeting the ene- 
my. He changed the route which the prudence of the baron de 
Kalb had selected, leading through a district which afforded abun- 



DE KALB. 397 

dant supplies for the troops, and pursued a nearer route, but which 
led through a barren country scarcely s.etlled, and where no pro- 
visions could be obtained but green corn and unripe fruits. This 
occasioned a fatal sickness, of which many died, and more be- 
came unfit for duty ; and the horses also suffered for the want of 
forage, which rendered them of little use. General Gates moved 
to Lynch's creek, which alone separated him from lord Rawdon, 
when the latter immediately retreated to Camden, and despatched 
intelligence of the approach of the American army to Cornwallis. 
General Gates moved on to Rudgley's Mills, where he halted and 
encamped. Here being informed by general Sumpter that a par- 
ty of the enemy were on their way with stores for the army at 
Camden, and that with a detachment of artillery he could inter- 
cept them, Gates ordered colonel Woolford, with four hundred men 
and two field-pieces, to his aid. General Gates was joined here 
by general Stevens, with several hundred Virginia militia ; and 
although he had weakened his force by detaching colonel Wool- 
ford, he still prepared to march to Camden, and seemed to suppose 
that lord Rawdon would retreat at his approach, as he had done at 
Lynch's creek ; and he was entirely ignorant of lord Cornwallis** 
arrival. 

The very night that Gates moved from Rudgley's Mills, Corn- 
walUs marched from Camden, with the intention of surprising him 
in his position. The advanced guards of the two armies met on 
the morning of the 16th, some hours before dawn of light. Ar- 
mond's squadron of cavalry, which was in advance, was immedi- 
ately thrown back in confusion on the Maryland regiment, which 
occasioned some disorder; but the light-infantry, which flanked 
the army, opposed the advance of the enemy's van, and this first 
apprised the two generals of the proximity of their armies. Neith- 
er being willing to risk an action in the dark, both immediately 
halted and prepared for action. The situation, Avhich was the re- 
sult of accident and not of choice on either side, was precisely 
what the enemy desired, as the deep swamps on both sides, pre- 
vented the Americans from presenting a more extended line than 
the enemy, which, from their superior numbers, they might have 
done, had the ground admitted it. There were about two thousand 
seven hundred Americans, of which, however, one thousand only 



398 DE KALB. 

were continentals. The enemy were drawn up in one line, ex- 
tending across the whole ground, and flanked by the swamps on 
both sides. Colonel Webster was stationed on the right, and lord 
Rawdon on the left : in front of the line, the artillery, with four 
field pieces, were posted; the reserve were posted at two stations 
in the rear, near the centre of each wing, at each of which was 
one six pounder; and the cavalry occupied the road in the rear, 
which, with the reserve, formed the second line. General Gates 
changed the first disposition of his troops : the second Maryland 
brigade and the Delaware regiment were posted on the right, un- 
der general Gist; the centre was occupied by general Caswell, 
with the North Carolina militia; and the Virginia militia, com- 
manded by general Stevens, were placed on the left, being opposed 
to the troops of the enemy. The artillery was divided among 
the several brigades; and the first Maryland brigade, under gene- 
ral Smallwood, formed the reserve. The line of battle was in- 
trusted to the baron de Kalb, who was posted on the right, great 
reliance being placed on his experience and known intrepidity ; he 
was to watcli the movements of the whole line, and direct his ex- 
ertions where circumstances might indicate. General Gates was 
stationed in the road, between the reserve and the front line. 

The action was commenced by a vigorous attack on the Amer- 
ican left, by the enemy's right, which were their best troops; this 
was immediately followed by the discharge of artillery from our 
centre, and the action was soon commenced along the whole line. 
The Virginia militia on our left, unable to stand the vigorous as- 
sault of the British veterans, after one fire, threw down their arms 
and fled ; and their pernicious example was immediately followed 
by the North Carolina brigade in our centre ; and all the exertions 
of their officers, and of general Gates in person, to rally them, 
were ineffectual : filled with consternation, they continued their 
cowardly flight until they reached a place of safetj-. The centre 
of the American line being thus broken, the right, consisting of 
the Maryland brigade and Delaware regiment, led by the gallant 
de Kalb, had to sustain the whole force of the action. De Kalb 
and Gist were pushing on with decided advantage at the time the 
militia gave wa)^, which stopped their advance, and brought the 
whole fire of the enemy upon them : animated by their brave 



DE KALB. 399 

leader, they resolutely sustained this unequal contest for a consid- 
erable time, and until all the other troops had retreated: several 
times were the enemy's van driven in with loss. General Small- 
wood, with the first Maryland brigade, which had formed the re- 
serve, advanced and took the place of the fugitives on the left, 
which exposed him to the whole corps of Webster's veterans, on 
the enemy's right. The shock was too heavy for militia; three 
times was general Smallwood compelled to give way, and with 
determined valor three times did he return to the charge ; and would 
probably have maintained his ground, had not the remaining re- 
giment of North Carolina militia, which, for some time, seemed 
resolved to retrieve the disgrace of their countrymen, finally gave 
way, which compelled Sm:illwood's regiment to retire in some 
disorder from so unequal and destructive a contest. This left the 
right the second time exposed to the whole force of the enemy. 
Few, but undismayed, the brave continentals, animated by the 
heroic conduct of their chief, made a determined effort to sustain 
the honor of the field alone. From the vast superiority of the 
enemy, their fire was heavy and destructive, and could not be re- 
turned with the same effect; dc Kalb, therefore, placed his last 
hopes on the bayonet, and making a desperate charge, drove the 
enemy before him with considerable advantage. But at this time 
Cornwallis, perceiving that the American cavalry had left the 
field, ordered colonel Tarleton to charge with his cavalry ; and 
having concentrated his whole force, the charge was made with 
the usual impetuosity of that daring officer. This was decisive of 
the desperate conflict, and fatal to the gallant officer who is the 
subject of this brief notice. Fatigued from their long and ardu- 
ous efforts, the heroic continentals, who had sustained almost the 
whole burden of the day, were unable to withstand the charge ; 
and their gallant leader, who was himself a host, having fallen, 
they were compelled to leave a field which they had so honorably 
defended, and seek safety by flight. The victory, and the disper- 
sion of the Americans, were complete; and the fugitives were pur- 
sued for more than twenty miles. The troops under de Kalb, on 
the right, suffered, as might be supposed, most severely; the Del- 
- aware regiment was nearly destroyed, two companies only being 



400 DE KALB. 

left, and more than one third of the continentals were killed and 
wounded. 

Perhaps no officer ever exerted himself more, in a single action, 
than did the baron de Kalb on this occasion ; he did all that man 
could do to retrieve the fortune of the day, exposing himself to con- 
stant and imminent danger. He received eleven wounds in the 
course of the action, but kept his post and continued his exertions 
until the last, which proved mortal. As he fell, his aid, lieuten- 
ant-colonel de Buysson, caught him in his arms to save him from 
the uplifted bayonets of the enemy, which he warded off by re- 
ceiving them in his own body. In his last moments the baron 
dictated a letter to general Smallwood, who succeeded to his com- 
mand, expressing a warm affection for the Americans, and the 
cause in which they were engaged, and his admiration of the con- 
duct of the troops under his immediate command, whose bravery 
and firmness, in so unequal a contest, he said, had called forth the 
commendation even of the enemy; and concluded by expressing 
the satisfaction he felt in having fallen in the defence of the inde- 
pendence and liberties of America, a cause so dear to the lovers 
of liberty, and the friends of humanity, in Europe as well as A- 
merica. He survived only a few days. An ornamental tree was 
planted at the head of his grave, near Camden ; and congress, duly 
sensible of his merits, passed a resolution directing a monument 
to be erected to his memory, with very honorable inscriptions, at 
Annapolis, in Maryland ; but the resolution, it is believed, has 
never been carried into effect, and the gratitude and plighted faith 
of the nation both remain unredeemed. He was in the forty-eighth 
year of his age : most of his life had been spent in military employ- 
ments, and the last three years in America, with distinguished 
reputation. 



PART III, 



BIOGRAPHY OF REVOLUTIONARY NAVAL OFFICERS. 



JOHN PAUL JONES, 

COJDIODORE IN THE AMERICAN NaVY. 

The following interesting narrative is translated from a French 
manuscript, written by himself. While we condemn the author 
for his egotism, we must make great allowances on that account 
for the splendid success that attended his enterprises, and estimate 
his vanity by the reasons he had to be vain. Few, perhaps, cir- 
cumstanced as Paul Jones was, would have praised themselves 
less than he has done in this sketch; which possesses the singular 
merit, of being substantially correct in all its parts, so far as we 
are informed of the matter. — Niles'' Register. 

At the commencement of the American war, during the year 
1775, 1 was employed to fit out the little squadron which the con- 
gress had placed under commodore Hopkins, who was appointed 
to the command of all the armed vessels pertaining to America; 
and I hoisted, with my own hands, the American flag on board 
the Alfred, which was then displayed for the first time. 

I at the same time acquainted Mr. Hewes, a member of con- 
gress, arid my particular friend, with a project for seizing on the 
island of St. Helena by means of our little squadron, which would 
have infallibly rendered us masters of part of the homeward-bound 
East India fleet ; and as the congress, at that ti-me, proposed to ap- 
propriate two-thirds of the prizes to itself, they would have thus 
been furnished with the means of carrying on the war during 
several years; but an event of a more pressing nature prevented 
this scheme from being carried into execution. 

The cruelties and vexations at' that time exercised by Dunmore 
in Virginia, determined the congress to detach the squadron against 
him; but Mr. Hopkins displayed neither zeal nor talents upon this 
occasion, and lost so much time, that his squadron was frozen in 
the Delaware. 

35 



402 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

After a delay of two months, the squadron was at length dis- 
engaged, and set sail for New-Providence, the principal of the 
Bahama islands. There we found a large quantity of artillery, 
mortars, and other implements of warfare, of which we stood 
gi-eatly in want in America ; and I had the good fortune to render 
myself extremely useful to the commodore, who was but little 
acquainted with military operations. It was to me he was indebted 
for the plan adopted by hiui when the squadron came in sight of 
New-Providence ; and I also undertook to moor the squadron in a 
proper berth to execute our enterprise. 

On our return from New-Providence, v/e took two armed ves- 
sels, one of which was loaded with bombs, and near Rhode-Island 
fell in with an English mnn of war, called the Glasgow, carrying 
twenty-four guns; hut, notwithstanding our superiority, both in 
point of force and sailing, the commander-in-chief suffered her to 
escape, after having lost many men killed and wounded, both on 
board the Alfred and the Cabot. 

The squadron now entered the port of New-London, in Con- 
necticut. A council of war having dismissed the captain of the 
Providence, one of the ships of the squadron, the commodore gave 
me orders in writing to take the command of her, and to escort 
some troops that were proceeding from Rhode-Island to New-York, 
with a view of serving under general Washington. After this, I 
received instructions to escort a convoy of artillery from Rhode- 
Island to New-York, for the defence of which it Mas destined. On 
this occasion I had two different engagements with the Cerberus 
frigate; the first for the protection of the vessels under my com- 
mand, and the second for the preservation of a vessel from St. 
Domingo, laden with naval stores for the congress. In the course 
of my service between Boston and New-York, I had also many 
actions with ships of war under the command of lord Howe ; but 
on these, as on former occasions, I was enabled to preserve my 
convoy; and I at length arrived safe in the Delaware, on the first 
of August, 1776. 

On the 8th of the same month, the president of the congress 
presented me, in person, with the commission of captain in the 
marine of the United States : this was the first granted by con- 
gross after the declaration of independence. 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 403 

Orders had been given for the construction of thirteen frigates ; 
but as none of them Avas yet ready, I proceeded to sea alone, on 
board the Providence, which was a vessel of but small force, as 
she carried no more than seventy men, and twelve small cannon. 
When in the neighborhood of Bermudas, we fell in with the Sole- 
bav and her convoy, from Charleston. She was a thirty -two gun 
frigate, and formed part of the squadron under admiral Parker. 
I was of course desirous of avoiding an engagement with such 
superior force ; but as my officers and men insisted that it was the 
Jamaica fleet, as it was necessary to command by means of per- 
suasion at this epoch of the war, the result was a serious conflict 
during six hours, which, towards the close, was carried on within 
pistol shot. A desperate manoeuvre was the sole resource left 
me. I attempted this; it succeeded, and I was fortunate enough 
lo disengage myself. 

A short time after this I took several prizes, and then sailed tc^ 
wards the coast of Nova Scotia, on purpose to destroy the whale 
and cod fisheries in that neighborhood. When near Sable Island^ 
we fell in with the Milford frigate, carrying thirty-two guns, with 
which it was impossible to avoid an engagement. A cannonade 
accordingly took place, from ten o'clock in the morning until sun- 
set ; but the engagement was neither so close nor so hot as that 
with the Solebay, and I at length escaped by passing through the 
fiats, and enterdd a little harbor next day, where I destroyed the 
fishery and vessels. Afterthis I set sail for Isle Madame, where 
I made two descents — at the same time destroying the fisheries, 
and burning all the vessels I could not carry away with me. — 
Having accomplished this, I returned to Rhode-Island, after an 
-absence of forty-seven days from the Delaware ; in which interval 
I had taken sixteen prizes, without including those destroyed. 

The commander-in-chief, who had remained all this time in 
harbor, now adopted a plan proposed by me, and which consisted, 

1. In the destruction of the enemy's fisheries at Isle Royale; and 

2. Of restoring to liberty more than three hundred American pri- 
soners, detained there in the coal mines. Three vessels were 
destined for this service, the Alfred, the Hampden, and the Provi- 
dence; but the Hampden having received considerable damage in 
consequence of running upon a rock, could not accompany me. 



404 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

I, however, embarked on board the Alfred, and taking the Provi- 
dence by way of consort, I set sail, and on the 2nd of November 
made prize of a vessel from Liverpool, and soon after the Mellish, 
a large armed vessel, having two British naval officers on board, 
and a captain belonging to the land service, with a company of 
soldiers. This ship was carrying ten thousand complete suits of 
uniform to Canada, for the army posted there under the orders 
of generals Carleton and Burgoyne. 

The Providence having now left the Alfred during the night, 
without the least pretext whatever, I remained alone, and that too 
during the stormy season, on the enemy's coast; but notwithstand- 
ing this, and that I was also greatly embarrassed with my prison- 
ers, I resolved not to renounce my project. I accordingly effected 
a descent, destroyed a transport of great value, and also burned 
the magazines and buildings destined for the whale and cod fishery. 
Having returned to Boston, December 10th, 1776, the intelli- 
gence of the uniforms taken on board the Mellish, re-animated 
the courage of the army under general Washington, which at that 
period happened to be almost destitute of clothing. Let me add 
also, that this unexpected succor contributed not a little to the 
success of the affair at Trenton against the Hessians, which took 
place immediately after my arrival. 

The season being now too far advanced for the execution of the 
scheme in the West Indies, myself and crew received orders to 
remove on board the Amphytrite, a French vessel, destined to sail 
from Portsmouth, New-Hampshire, to France, whence we were to 
pass into Holland, and take possession of the Indienne, a large 
frigate, constructing there for the congress. 

In the month of January, 1778, 1 repaired to Pari?,to make the 
necessary arrangements with the American ministers, relative to 
the equipment of the Indienne; but as the English ambassador at 
the Hague, in consequence of obtaining possession of the papers 
of an American agent, found that the Indienne was the property 
of congress, I acquiesced in the opinion of the American ministers; 
and it was determined to cede the property to his most christian 
majesty, this being the most likely method of preserving the prop- 
erty. 

In the month of February, 1776, the parliament of England 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 405 

had authorized George III. to treat all the Americans taken at sea 
^vith arms in their hands, as traitors, pirates, and felons : this, 
more than any other circumstance, rendered me the declared 
enemy of Great Britain. 

Indignant at the barbarous treatment experienced by the Amer- 
icans, I determined to make a grand effort in their behalf, with a 
view of stopping the barbarous proceedings of the English in Eu- 
rope, as well as on the western continent; in the latter of which, 
they set tire to their houses, destroyed their property, and burned 
and destroyed whole towns. I accordingly determined, byway 
of retaliation, to effect a descent upon some part of England, with 
a view of destroying the shipping. It was also my intention to 
make some person of distinction prisoner, whom I resolved to 
detain as a hostage for the security of, and in order to exchano-e 
with the American prisoners in England. 

I accordingly sailed from Brest, and set sail for the coast of 
Scotland. It was my intention to take the Earl of Selkirk pris- 
oner, and detain his lordship as a hostage, in conformity to the pro- 
ject already mentioned. It was with this view about noon of the 
same day, I landed on that nobleman's estate, with two officers and 
a few men. In the course of my progress, I fell in with some of 
the inhabitants, who, taking me for an Englishman, observed, that 
lord Selkirk was then in London, but that her ladyship and several 
ladies were at the castle. 

On this, I determined to return ; but such moderate conduct was 
not conformable to the wishes of my people, who were disposed to 
pillage, burn and destroy every thing in imitation of the conduct 
of the English towards the Americans. Although I was not dis- 
posed to copy such horrid proceedings, more especially when a 
lady was in question, it was yet unnecessary to recur to such 
means as should satisfy their cupidity, and at the same time, pro- 
vide for lady Selkirk's safety. It immediately appeared to me, 
to be the most proper mode to give orders to the two officers to re- 
pair to the castle with the men, who were to remain on the outside 
under arms, while they themselves entered alone. They were 
then instructed to enter and demand the family plate, in a polite 
manner, accepting whatever was offered them, and then return 
35* 



406 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

without making any furtlier inquiries, or attempting to search for 
more. 

I was punctually obeyed j the plate was delivered ; lady Selkirk 
herself observed to the officers, that she was exceedingly sensible 
of my moderation ; she even intimated a wish to repair to the shore, 
although a mile distance from her residence, in order to invite me 
to dinner; but the officers would not allow her ladyship to take so 
much trouble. 

I had no sooner arrived at Brest, than admiral the count D'Or- 
villers transmitted an account of my expedition to the minister of 
the marine, in consequence of which it was intimated to Dr. Frank- 
lin, that his majesty was desirous thati should repair to Versailles 
as he was resolved to employ me on a secret expedition, for which 
purpose he would give me the Indienne, with some other frigates, 
with troops, &c. for the purpose of effecting a descent. 

But in a short time after this, hostilities took place between 
France and England, in consequence of the action with La Belle 
Poule. This not a little embarrassed the minister of the marine^, 
and the difficulty was not diminished by the intelligence brought 
by the prince, who asserted that the Dutch would not permit the 
Indienne to be equipped. 

I now received orders to escort a fleet of transports and merch- 
antmen from L'Orient, destined for different ports between that 
and Bordeaux ; and afler that I was to chase away the English 
cruisers from the Bay of Biscay, and then to return for further 
orders. 

After executing this commission, on my representing how ne- 
cessary it was to make a diversion in favor of the count D'Orvil- 
lers, then cruising in the channel, with sixty-six ships of the line, 
I received a carte blanche during six weeks, without any other re- 
striction th^n that of repairing to the Texel,by the first of October. 
By this time I received intimation, from England, that eight India- 
men were soon expected on the coast of Ireland, near to Limerick. 
This was an object of great attention ; and as there were two pri- 
vateers at Port L'Orient ready for sea, Le Monsi€vr,o[ forty guns, 
and Le Granville, of fourteen, the captains of w hich offered to 
place themselves under my orders, I accepted the proposition. 
But the French commissary who superintended the naval depart- 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 407 

ment, acted with great impropriety on this, as well as on many 
former occasions- 

The little squadron at length set sail from the road of Groays, 
on the 14th of August, 1779; but we had no sooner proceeded to 
the north of the mouth of the channel, than Le Monsieur and Le 
Granville abandoned me during the night, and Le Cerf, soon after 
imitated their conduct. I was extremely anxious to cruise for a 
tortnight in the latitude of Limerick ; but the captain of the Alli- 
ance, after objecting to this, also left me during the night; and as 
I had now with me only the Pallas and the Vengeance, I was 
obliged to renounce my original intentions. 

I took two prizes on the coast of Ireland ; and within sight of 
Scotland, came up and seized two privateers, of twenty-two guns 
each, which, with a brigantine, I sent to Bergen, in Norway, ac- 
cording to the orders I had received from Dr. Franklin : these 
prizes, however, were restored to the English by the king of Den- 
mark. 

When I entered the North sea, I captured several vessels, and 
learned by my prisoners, as well as by the newspapers, that the 
capitol of Scotland, and the port of Leith were left totally defence- 
less. I also understood at the same time, that my information rel- 
ative to the eight Indiamen was correct; they having entered Lime- 
rick three days after I had been obliged to leave the neighbor- 
hood of that port. 

As there was only a twenty gun ship and two cutters in Leith 
Koad,I deemed it practicable to lay those two places under contri- 
bution. I had indeed no other force to execute this project, than 
the Richard, the Pallas, and the Vengeance ; but I well knew, that 
in order to perform a brilliant action, it is not always necessary to 
possess great means. I therefore held out the prospect of great 
booty to the captains under my command; and, as to myself, I was 
satisfied with the idea of making a diversion in favor of the count 
D'Orvillers, who was then in the channel. 

I now distributed red clothes to my men, and put some of thenj 
on board the prizes, so as to give them the appearance of trans- 
ports full of troops. All the necessary arrangements were also 
taken to carry the enterprise into execution; but, about a quarter 
of an hour before the descent was to have been made, a sudden 



408 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

tempest arose, and drove me out of the Forth or Edinburgh Fritii, 
and so violent was the storm, that one of my prizes was lost. 

This did not, however, deter me, notwithstanding the smallness 
of my forces, from forming different enterprises of a similar nature ; 
but I could not induce the captains of the Pallas and Vengeance to 
second my views; I was therefore obliged to content myself by 
spreading alarm on the coast, and destroying the shipping, which 
I did as far as Hull. 

On the morning of the 23d September, while I was cruising in 
the lattitude of Flamborough Head, which I had appointed as a 
place of rendezvous for my little squadron, and where I hoped to 
be rejoined by the Alliance and Le Cerf, and also to fall in with 
the Baltic fleet; this convoy accordingly appeared at a time when 
I had been abandoned by several of my consorts, had lost two 
boats, with their crews, who had run away on the coast of Ireland, 
and when a third, with eighteen men on board, was in chase of a 
merchantman to the windward, leaving me with a scanty crew, 
and only a single lieutenant and some inferior officers on board. 

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon that the Baltic fleet ap- 
peared in view ; I then happened to have the wind of it, and was 
about two leagues distant from the coast of England. I learned 
from my prisoners, that the convoy was escorted by the Serapis, a 
new vessel, that could mount fifty-six guns, but then carried only 
fortv-four, on two decks, the lower battery carrying eighteen 
pounders, and the Countess of Scarborough, a new twenty-two 
gun ship. 

We were no sooner descried than the armed vessels stood out 
to sea, while the trade took refuge under the cannon of Scarbo- 
rough Castle. 

As there was but little wind, I could not come up with the enemy 
before night. The moon did not rise until eight, and at the close 
of the day, the Serapis and Countess of Scarborough tacked and 
stood in for the fortress. I was lucky enough to discover this ma- 
nceuvrie by means of my night glass, without which I should have 
remained in ignorance of it. On this I immediately altered my 
course six points, with a view of cutting off the enemy ; which was 
no sooner perceived by the Pallas, than it was supposed my crew 
had mutinied, which induced her captain to haul his wind, and 



JOHX PAUL JONES. 409 

stand out to sea, while the Alliance lay to, to windward, at a con-, 
siderable distance; and as the captain of the vessel had never paid 
any attention whatever to the signals of the Richard, sinc6 her 
leaving France, I was obliged to run all risks' and enter into action 
with the Richard only, to prevent the enemy's escape. 

I accordingly began the engagement at seven o'clock at night, 
within pistol shot of the Serapis, and sustained the brunt of her 
fire, and also that of the Countess of Scarborough, which raked 
the Richard, by means of the broadsides she fired into her stern. 

It ought to be here remarked, that the Richard, properly speak- 
ing, was only a thirty -four gun frigate, carrying only twelve-poun- 
ders; bat six eighteen-pounders had been placed in the gun room, 
in case of being obliged to recur to a cannonade in an enemy's har- 
bor. The sea being very calm during the engagement, I hoped to 
be able to derive great advantage from this circumstance; but in- 
stead of this, they burst at the commencement cf the action, and 
the officers and men, posted at this service, and who were selected 
as the best of the whole crew, w ere either killed, wounded, or 
affrighted to such a degree, that none of them were of any ser- 
vice during the rest of the engagement. 

n this unfortunate extremity, having to contend with three times 
my own strength, the Richard being in imminent danger of going 
to the bottom, and her guns being no longer in a condition to return 
the enemy's fire, I had recourse to a dangerous expedient, to grap- 
ple with the Serapis, in order, on the one hand, to render the supe- 
riority useless, and on the other, to cover ourselves from the fire 
cf her consort. This manoeuvre succeeded most admirably, and 
Hastened the Serapis, with my own hands to the Richard. On 
this, the captain of the Countess of Scarborough, who was a natu- 
ral son of the duke of Northumberland, conducted himself like a 
man of sense, and from that moment ceased to fire upon us, well 
knowing that he must at the same time damage the Serapis. 

That vessel being to windward at the moment we had grappled, 
instantly dropped her anchor, hoping by this to disengage herself 
from us; but this did not answer her expectations, and the engage- 
ment from that moment, consisted of the discharge of great guns, 
swivels, musketry, and grenades. The English at first, testified 
n desire to board the Richard, but they no sooner saw the danger 



410 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

than they desisted. The enemy, however, possessed the advan- 
tage of their two batteries, besides the guns on their forecastle 
and quarter-deck, while our cannon was either burst or abandoned, 
except four pieces on the forecastle, which were also relinquished 
during some minutes. Mr. Mease, the officer who commanded 
these guns, had been dangerously wounded on the head, and hav- 
ing, at that period, no greater object to occupy my attention, I my- 
self took his post. A few sailors came to my assistance of their 
own accord, and served the two guns next to the enemy with sur- 
prising courage and address. A short time after this, I received 
sufficient assistance to be able to remove one of the forecastle guns 
from the opposite side; but we had not strength sufficient to remove 
the other, so that we could only bring three guns to bear upon the 
enemy during the remainder of the action. 

The moon, which as I have already observed, rose at eight, be- 
held the two vessels surrounded by flame, in consequence of the 
explosion of the cannon. It so happened at this period, that the 
mainmast of the Serapis, which was painted yellow, appeared ex- 
tremely distinct, so as to form an excellent mark ,• on this, I pointed 
one ftf my guns at it, taking care to ram home the shot. In the 
mean time, the two other pieces were admirably served against 

the and swept its forecastle, by means of an oblique fire. — 

The tops also seconded us bravely, by means of musquetry and 
swivels, and also threw a multitude of grenades, so as greatly to 
annoy the enemy. By these means they were driven from their 
<quarter.«, notwithstanding their superiority in point of men and 
artillery. 

The captain of the Serapis, after consulting with his officers, 
resolved to strike ; but an unlucky accident, M'hich occurred on 
board the Richard, prevented this : a bullet having destroyed one 
of our pumps, the carpenter was seized with a panic, and told the 
gunner, and another petty officer, that we were sinking. Some 
one observed at the same time, that both I and the lieutenant were 
killed: in consequence of which the gunner, considering himself 
as commanding officer, ran instantly to the quarter-deck, in order 
to haul down the American colors, which he would have actually 
hauled down, had not the flag-staff been carried away at the time 
the Richard grappled with the Serapis. 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 411 

The captain, on hearing the gunner express his wishes to sur- 
render, in consequence of his supposing that we were sinking, 
instantly- addressed himself to me and exclaimed, "Do you ask for 
quarter? — Do you ask for quarter?" I was so occupied at this 
period, in serving the three pieces of cannon on the forecastle, 
that I remained totally ignorant of what had occurred on deck ; I 
replied, however, "I do not dream of surrendering, but I am deter- 
mined to make }'ou strike !" 

The English commander, however, conceived some faint hopes, 
in consequence of what had been said, that the Richard was actu- 
ally sinking; but when he perceived that her fire did not diminish, 
he immediately ordered his men from the forecastle, where thev 
were too much exposed, and stationed them below, w here they 
kept up such a tremendous discharge against the Richard, that it 
at once indicated vengeance and despair. 

It has already been observed, that when 1 commenced the action, 
the Pallas was at a great distance to windward, while the Alliance 
lay to in the same position. When the captain of the former per- 
ceived that the engagement took place, he spoke to his consort; 
•but they lost a great deal of time, and it was not until now, that 
they came within gun shot of the Countess of Scarborough, and a 
kind of running fight took place between the latter and the Pallas. 
The Alliance followed them, and on passing us, fired a broadside, 
which, as we were closely engaged with the enemy, did no more 
harm to them than to us. • 

The battle still continued with uncommon ardor between us 
and the enemy, whose — — or burned, and her mainmast cut a- 
way by degrees, by our bullets ; while the heavier metal of the 
Serapis drove in on one of the sides of my ship, and met with little 
or no resistance. In short, our helm wasrendered, useless,, and 
the poop was only supported by an old and shattered piece of tim- 
ber, which alone prevented it from giving way. 

At length, after a short engagement, the Countess of Scarbo- 
rough surrendered to the Pallas ; it was then that the captain of 
the latter asked the commander of the Alliance, "whether he 
would take charge of the prize, or sail and give succor to the com- 
modore?" On this, the Alliance began to stand backwards and 
forwards under her topsails, until having got to the windward, she 



412 JOHN PAl'L JO.NES. 

came dow^i, and discharged a second broadside against the fore- 
part of the Serapis, and the hind-part of fhc Richard. On this, I 
and several otlier persons begged, for Gotl's sake, that they would 
cease firing, and send a few men on board of us ; but he disobeyed, 
and fired another broadside as he passed along; after which he 
kept at a most respectful distance, and took great care not to ex- 
pose himself during the remainder of the action, without receiving 
a single shot, cr having a man wounded during the whole engage- 
ment. 

The idea that we were sinking had taken such possession of the 
armorer's mind, that he actually opened the scuttles, and made all 
prisoners, to the number oi' a hundred, sally forth, in opposition 
to my reiterated orders. This event might have proved fatal, had 
I not taken advantage of their aflright to station tliem at the pumps? 
where they displayed si:rprisingzeal, appearing actually to forget 
tlieir captivity; for there was nothing to prevent their going on 
board the Serapis; or, it was in their power to put an end to the 
engagement in an instant, by either killing me, or throwing me 
into the sea. 

As our three quarter-deck guns continued to j)lay without in-> 
terruption on the enemy, raked her hinder parts, and daniaged her 
mast in such amanner, that it was only supported from falling by 
the yards of our ship, while the tops poured in a continual dis- 
charge; the fire of the English began to deaden in such a manner 
as to bereave them of all hopes of success. 

A circumstance occurred, however, that contributed not a little 
to the victory of the Richard; this was the extraordinary intrepidi- 
ty and presence of mind of a Scotch sailor, posted in the main 
top: this brave fellow, of his own accord, seized a lighted match, 
and a basket of hand grenades, with which he advanced along 
the main-yard, until he had arrived exactly above the enemy's 
deck. As the flames of their parapets and shrouds, added to the 
light of the moon, enabled hirn to distinguish objects, the moment 
he perceived two or three persons assembled together, he instant- 
ly discharged a hand grenade among them; he had even address 
enough to drop several through their scuttles, and one of them set 
fire to the catridge of an eighteen pounder belonging to the lower 
deck, the discharge of which scorched several of the crew. 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 413 

On this, the captain of the Serapis came upon the quarter-deck 
Howered hia flag, and asked for quarter, at the very moment his 
mainmast had fallen into the sea. lie then came on board with 
his officers, and presented me with his sword. While this was 
transacting, eight or ten men belonging to the Richard seized on 
the Serapis' shallop, which had been at anchor during the engage- 
ment, and made ofl". 

It was more than eleven o'clock when the battle ended; it had 
consequently lasted more than four hours. My ship had no more 
than 322 men, good, bad and indifferent, on board at the commence- 
ment of the engagement; and the sixty of these, posted in the 
gun room when the gun burst, having been of no farther service 
during the action, could not be properly considered as forming part 
of the crew opposed to the Serapis, which had received a supply 
of English sailors while in Denmark; and it appeared, indeed, by 
the muster roll, that there were upwards of four hundred on board 
of her, when the first gun was fired. Her superiority was still 
more considerable in respect to guns, without mentioning her 
greater weight in metal, which surpassed ours beyond all com- 
parison. Thus, setting aside the damage done by the Countess 
of Scarborough, during the fore-part of the action, and also by 
the three broadsides from the Alliance, it will be easy to form a 
due judgment of the combat between the Richard and the Serapis, 
and set a proper value on a victory obtained over a force so greatly 
superior, after such a long, bloody and close engagement. 

The Vengeance, a corvette, mounting twelve three pounder.?, 
and the boat belonging to the pilot, with my second lieutenant, 
another officer and ten men, would have been of singular service, 
either in pursuing and capturing the convoy, or by reinforcing 
me ; but strange as it may appear, the fact is, that they remained 
all this time mere spectators of the action, in which they to<jk no 
interest, keeping themselves to windward, and out of all danger; 
while, on the other hand, the conduct of the Alliance had at least, 
the appearance of proceeding from a principle worse than igno- 
rance or insubordination. 

It must appear clear, from what has been already said, that if 
the enemy's ports were not annoyed, the Baltic fleet taken, and ' 
eight Indiamen seized, the blame did not lie with me. 
3G 



414 JOHN PAUL JOaiES. 

It is but justice, however to observe, that some of my officers 
conducted themselves admirably during the action. The lieuten- 
ant, Mr. Dale, being left alone at the guns below, and finding he 
could not rally his men, came upon deck, and superintended the 
working of the pumps, notwithstanding he had been wounded. — 
Notwithstanding all his efforts, the hold was more than half full of 
water when the enemy surrendered. 

During the last three hours of the action, both the vessels were 
on fire; by throwing water on the flames, it was sometimes sup- 
posed that they were quenched, but they always broke forth anew, 
and on the close of the action, we imagined it wholly extinguish- 
ed. It was very calm during the remainder of the night; but 
when the wind began to blow, our danger became imminent, the 
fire having penetrated the timbers, and spread until it had reached 
within a few inches of the powder magazine. On this, the am- 
munition was brought on the deck to be thi-own in the sea, in case 
of extremity; but we at length, succeeded in our endeavors, by 
cutting away a few planks, and employing our buckets. 

Next morning the weather was hazy and not a sail to be seen. 
"VVe then examined the Richard to see if it were possible to carry 
her into any port. This proving wholly impracticable, all the 
boats were employed in carrying the wounded on board the other 
vessels. This occupied much of our time, and on the succeeding 
day, notwithstanding all our pumps had been at work, the hold 
was entirely full of water, and the vessel soon after sunk. On 
this occasion I could only save the signal flags, and I lost all my 
property, amounting to more than 5,000 livres. 

On this I instantly assumed the command of the Serapis, on 
which we erected jury masts; but the sea was so tempestuous, that 
it was ten days before we reached the Texel. 

No sooner was my arrival known, than forty-two vessels, form- 
in o- difterent squadrons of frigates, were fitted out from the vari- 
ous ports in Great Britain against me, and two of these were sta- 
tioned during three months at the mouths of the Texel and the 
Fly. My situation in Holland influenced not a little the conduct 
of the belligerent powers, at the same time that it excited the at- 
tention of all Europe. The English minister at the Hague ad- 
dressed different memorials to the states-general, in all which he 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 415 

insisted that the Serapis and the Countess of Scarborough "should 
be delivered up to the king, his master;" and he, at the same time, 
claimed me under the appellation of "the Scotch pirate." 

Instead of listening to these propositions, the states-general per- 
mitted me to land my wounded on the island of the Texel, which 
was delivered up to me for that purpose; on this the British gov- 
ernment became furious, and Holland was reduced to so critical a 
situation, that the states were under the necessity of insisting that 
I should either leave the Texel, or produce a commission from his 
most christian majesty, and hoist the French flag. 

The Prince of Orange, who was attached to the English inter- 
est, sent the vice-admiral Rhynst, who was also English in his 
heart, to assume the command of the Dutch squadron in the Texel, 
composed of thirteen two-deckers. This officer drew up his 
squadron, during six weeks, in such a manner as to menace us ; 
and in short, did every thing in his power to render my situation 
both dangerous and disagreeable. 

In the meantime I had an interview with the duke de la Van- 
guyon, at Amsterdam, who intimated to me, that it was the inten- 
tion of the king of France that I should hoist his flag during my 
stay in the Texel, as he imagined that my prizes would assuredly 
fall into the enemy's hands if I tried to escape — I, however, re- 
fused this honor, as I had declared myself an American officer, 
and had given a copy of my commission from congress to the 
Dutch admiral. It was contrived, however, at length, that I should 
go on board the frigate Alliance, the captain of which had been 
sent to Paris, to give an account of his conduct, and where I should 
still carry my former colors, while the prizes should hoist the 
French flag. 

At length the wind becoming favorable, on the 27th of Februa- 
ry, 1779, the Alliance set sail after having lost all her anchors, 
one only excepted, in consequence of admiral Rhynst's instruc- 
tions to the jiilot; and it was at least an hundred to one, that we 
should fall in with the enemy. I however, had the good fortune 
to escape, although the Alliance passedthe Straits of Dover, with- 
in sight of the English squadron in the Downs. After getting 
clear of the Channel, I soon reached the latitude of Cape Finis- 
terre, and entered the port of Corunna, January 16, 1780. 



416 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

On my return to France, I found that the French commissary 
had made a private sale of my prizes to the king without consuU- 
ing me. On this I repaired to Versailles, along with Dr. Franklin, 
but was received with great coolness by the minister of the ma- 
rine. On this account I declined asking him to present me to 
his majesty. This honor was conferred on me next day by the 
Prince de Beauveau, captain of the guards. The public received 
me at the opera, and all the public places where I appeared, with 
the most lively enthusiasm ; this, added to the very favorable re- 
ception I received from his majesty, afforded me singular satisfac- 
tion ; and the minister of the marine from that moment paid me 
the most marked attention. 

The count de Maurepas about this time intimated to me, that 
his majesty had resolved to confer some distinguished mark of his 
bounty and personal esteem on me; this proved to be a sword,, 
mounted with gold, on which was engraven the following flatter- 
ing motto ; — 

VINDICATI MARIS 

LUDOVICUS XVI. KEMUNEKATOR 

STRENUO VINDICI. 

The hilt was of gold, and the blade, &c. were emblazoned with 
his majesty's arms, the attributes of war, and an emblematical rep- 
resentation of the alliance between France and America. The 
most christian king, at the same time, transmitted a most admira- 
ble letter to congress, in which he offered to decorate me with the 
order of military merit. All this was extremely flattering^ as 
Louis XVI. had never presented a sword to any other officer, and 
never conferred the cross, except on such officers as were invested 
with his majesty's commission. . 

The minister of the marine, a short time after this, lent me the 
Ariel, a king's ship, carrying twenty guns, with which I sailed, Oc- 
tober 8th, 1780, for America. The wind was at first favorable; 
but I was soon after in danger of foundering on the Penmarks — 
and escaped only by cutting away my main and mizen masts. As 
soon as the storm abated, we erected jury masts, and returned to 
refit; in short, it was the 18th of December before I could proceed 
for Philadelphia. 

During the voyage, I fell in with an English twenty gun ship. 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 417 

called the Triumph, and partly by stratagem, and partly by hard 
fighting, forced her to strike her flag ; but while we were about to 
take possession of her, the captain taking advantage of her su- 
perior sailing, made off, and escaped. 

On ray arrival in America, the congress, on the representation 
of the chevalier de la Luzerne, passed a law to enable me to ac- 
cept the military order of France. The French minister, on this 
occasion, gave an entertainment, to which all the members of con- 
gress, and the principal inhabitants of Philadelphia were invited; 
after which I was invested, in their presence, with the decorations 
of the order. 

As the three ministers plenipotentiary from America had unfor- 
tunately disagreed, it necessarily follows that there would be some 
contradiction in respect to their reports concerning me. In con- 
sequence of this, the congress enjoined the admiralty to inquire 
into the nature of my connexion with the court of France, and 
the reasons which had induced me to remain in Europe, and delay 
the convoy of the military stores appertaining to the United States. 
In consequence of the examination that ensued, and the report 
that was delivered in, the congress passed an act, dated April 14, 
1781, in which I was thanked, in the most flattering manner, "for 
the zeal, the prudence, and the intrepidity, with which I had sus- 
tained the honor of the American flag ; for my bold and successful 
enterprises, with a vicAv to redeem from captivity the citizens of 
America, who had fallen into the power of the English, and for the 
eminent services by which I had added lustre to my own charac- 
ter and the arms of America." A committee of congress was 
also of opinion, "that I deserved a gold medal, in remembrance of 
my services." 

On the 21st of June, 1781, I was appointed, by an unanimous 
vote of congress, to the command of the America, a seventy-four 
gun ship, then building; and on the birth of the Dauphin, I, at my 
own expense, celebrated that happy event by royal salutes during 
the day, and a brilliant illumination in the evening, accompanied 
by fire works. 

An unfortunate accident soon after this, deprived me of the com- 
mand of that fine vessel : for the Magnifique, of seventy-four guns, 
belonging to the marquis de Vaudreuil's fleet, happening to be 
36* 



418 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

lost at Boston, the congress seized on this occasion to testify its 
gratitude to his most christian majesty, by presenting him with the 
America to replace her. 

In the mean time, it was resolved to place a French frigate, 
called VIndienne, with two or three armed vessels, under my or- 
ders, in order to seize on Bermudas; but as this was never put into 
execution, I applied to congress for leave to serve on board the 
fleet of the count d'Estaing, then destined for an expedition against 
Jamaica. 

The marquis de Vaudreuil received me with great distinction 
on board his own ship, the Triumphant, where I occupied the same 
cabin as the baron de Viomenil, who commanded the land forces. 
When we were in sight of Porto Rico, intelligence was received, 
tliat admirals Pigot and Hood were preparing to intercept us ; and 
as Don Solano, with the Spanish fleet, did not meet us at Porto 
Cabello, according to his promise, many of the officers becoming 
disgusted with the enterprise, fell sick, and I myself was in a dan- 
gerous state ; but we were relieved from our disagreeable situa- 
tion, by intelligence from Europe, that a general peace had taken 
place. This circumstance aftbrded me great pleasure; as I nov?- 
learned that Great Britain, after a long and bloody contest, had 
been forced to recognize the sovereignty and independence of the 
■United States of America. 

On this, we repaired to St. Domingo, where I received every 
possible mark of esteem from Mr. De Bellecombe, the governor; 
after a short stay, I embarked for Philadelphia, penetrated with 
gratitude for the various marks of esteem I had received from all 
the French officers during the five months I had been on board his 
majesty's squadron. 

I was unable to re-establish my health, during the rest of the 
summer, which I spent in Pennsylvania; and I did not get well 
until the autumn, when I recovered by means of the cold bath. 

I then demanded permission to return to Europe, on purpose to 
recover the prize money due to myself, officers and sailors, which 
was granted me by an act of congi'ess, dated at Princeton, Novem- 
ber 1st, 1783. 

On this, I embarked at Philadelphia, on board a packet boat des- 
tined to Havre de Grace; but being forced into Plymouth by con- 



JOHN BARRY. 419 

trary winds, I took post-hor?es for London, and then set out for 
Paris, and was received witii great cordiality by the ministry. 

Having at length received from the court of France the amount 
of the prizes, I returned to America on board a French packet boat, 

JOHN BARRY, 

COMMODORK IN THE AMERICAN NavY. 

"The father of the commodore was a respectable farmer in the 
county of Wexford, Ireland, where his son, the subject of this 
memoir, was born in the year 1745. After having received the 
first elements of an English education, to gratify his particular in- 
clination for the sea, his father entered him into the merchant ser- 
vice. When about fifteen years of age, he arrived in Pennsyl- 
vania, and selected it as the country of his future residence. — 
With the circumstances which induced him to leave his native 
land and take up his abode in a foreign country, we are not ac- 
quainted. Of this, however, we are certain, that they cannot have 
been in the least, injurious to his character; as we find that in the 
capital of the British provinces^ in the northern section of the wes- 
tern heimisphere, he was, for a number of years, in the employ- 
ment of many of the most respectable merchants, of whose unlim- 
ited confidence he ever retained the full possession. Among the 
many gentlemen in whose service he was, Messrs. Meredith, 
Wellish and Morris, and Nixon, stand most conspicuous. The ship 
Black Prince, a very valuable vessel, belonging to Mr. Nixon, en- 
gaged in the London trade, was commanded by him, at the com- 
mencement of the American revolution; but was shortly afler pur- 
chased by congress, and converted into a vessel of war. 

In reviewing the causes which led to hostilities between Great 
Britain and her colonies, Barry was satisfied that justice was en 
the side of the latter. He, therefore, engaged under the banners 
of freedom, and resolved to devote his best exertions to the eman- 
cipation of the colonies from the thraldom of the mother country. 

Confiding in his patriotism, congress, in February, 1776, a few 
months prior to the declaration of independence, appointed him 
commander of the brig Lexington, of sixteen guns, and his was 
the first continental vessel which sailed from the port of Philadel- 
phia, His cruises were successful. Congress had caused to be 



420 JOHN BARRY. 

built three large frigates, one of which was called the Effingham, 
to the command of which he was appointed immediately after that 
memorable era, which gave to the United States, a name among 
the nations of the world. During the following winter, his naval 
e mployment became nugatory, in consequence of the inclemency of 
the weather ; he from an aversion to inactivity, became a volunteer 
aid, in that season of peril, to the intrepid general Cadwallader. 

The city of Philadelphia and the forts on the Delaware fell into 
the hands of the British, in the following year, 1777 ; and commo- 
dore Barry, with several vessels of war, made good his retreat up 
the river as far as Whitehall, where, however, they were after- 
wards destroyed by the enemy. 

Prior to the destruction of these vessels, he successfully em- 
ployed those under his command in annoying the enemy, and 
cutting oft' the supplies. 

After the destruction of the American squadron, and soon after 
the capture of Philadelphia, he was appointed to command the 
Raleigh of thirty-two guns, which on a cruise was run on shore 
by a British squadron on Fox Island, in Penobscot bay. 

Subsequent to the above disaster, he commanded a vessel com- 
missioned with letters of marque and reprisal, and engaged in the 
West India trade for sometime. 

When congress concluded to build a seventy-four gun ship in 
New-Hampshire, he was ordered to command her. It was, how- 
ever, determined to make a present of this vessel to his most chris- 
tian majesty, when that august body gave him the command of the 
Alliance frigate. 

The situation of American affairs becoming important, in a for- 
eign point of view, colonel John Laurens, of South Carolina, son 
of Henry Laurens, then a prisoner in the Tower of London, was 
ordered to France on a.special mission. Commodore Barry sailed 
in the Alliance from Boston for L'Orient, in February, 1781, hav- 
ing the minister extraordinary and suite on board. After landing 
the ambassador and suite at L'Orient, in the early part of the 
same year, the Alliance sailed on a cruise. 

On the 29th of May following, at day-light, commodore Barry 
discovered a ship and brig on his weather bow, appearing after- 
wards to wear the British flag. He consequently prepared for 



JOHN BARRY. 421 

immediate action. The British ship proved to be the Atalanta, 
captain Edwards, of between twenty and thirty guns, and the brig 
Treposa, captain Smith. An action shortly commenced, and by 
three P. M. both vessels struck. Barry was wounded early in the 
engagement; but notwithstanding his sufferings, in consequence 
of this casualty, he still remained on deck, and it was owing to 
his intrepidity and presence of mind, that the Alliance was the 
victor. 

On December 25, 1781, he sailed in the Alliance for France, 
from Boston, having on board the marquis de Lafayette and count 
de Noailles, who were desirous of going to their native country, 
on business of the highest importance. He had scarcely arrived 
at his destined port, (L'Orient,) when he sailed in February, 1782? 
on a cruise, during which he fell in with an enemy's ship of equal 
size, and had a severe engagement. The enemy would have been 
captured, had it not been for two consorts, which, however, were 
kept at a distance during the action, by a French fifty gun ship, 
which hove in sight. The continental ship Luzerne, of twenty 
guns, had her guns thrown overboard before the battle began, in 
order to facilitate her escape, as she had a quantity of specie on 
board from Havanna, for the use of the United States. Th*e cap- 
tain of the British frigate, who was soon after advanced to be vice- 
admiral of the red, acknowledged that he had never received a 
more severe flagellation than on this occasion, although it seemed 
to have had the appearance of a drawn battle. 

During the time that general lord Howe was the British com- 
mander-in-chief, he attempted to alienate the commodore from the 
cause which he had so ardently espoused, by 'an offer of 2Q,000 
guineas, and the command of the best frigate in the British navy ; 
but he rejected the offer with scorn. The return of peace, how- 
ever, in the year 1783, put an end to all such dishonorable prop- 
ositions, and our commodore returned to private life. 

In the treaty of Paris, 1783, there was an article prohibiting the 
United States from building vessels of war during the term of 
twelve years. At the expiration of this limitation, however, our 
government conceived themselves to be on the eve of a war with 
Great Britain, in consequence of the celebrated corn order of the 
privy council of 1793, for the avowed purpose of starving France, 



422 JOHN BARRV. 

and the subsequent aggressions on American commerce. These 
apprehensions gave birth to a law for creating a navy, to the com- 
mand of which commodore Barry was designed. The treaty of 
1795, however, prevented the law from being carried into full ex- 
ecution, although Mr. Barry, in consequence of that law, was 
retained in service. 

That the U.' States were under great obligations to France, for 
the aid she lent them during their struggle for liberty and indepen- 
dence, is a fact which few will deny; and the extent of these obli- 
gations was fully expressed in the treaty between the two countries 
in 1778. It was, therefore, a matter of surprise to many, who 
have not, till this day, called in question the integrity of the illus- 
trious man, who then directed the destinies of our nation, to find 
that he had issued a proclamation, enjoining a strict neutrality, as 
if no compacts between the two governments had ever existed. 
He was, however, unquestionably actuated by the purest motive, 
and must have thought that the steps which he had taken would 
promote the interest of- his country. 

In 1797, it was deemed proper by the American government,, 
from some cause not generally known, or explicitly avowed, to 
annul the consular convention with France; the pretext for which 
was, French aggression on American commerce. During the 
maritime disturbance thus created between the two countries, Mr. 
Barry was actively engaged in protecting the commerce of his 
adopted country, and was held in the highest estimation by his 
nautical brethren. When this dispute was at last satisfactorily 
adjusted, a law was passed, during the last year of Mr. Adams'^ 
administration, for reducing the navy ; in consequence of which, 
the vessel he commanded was laid up in ordinary, and he once 
more returned to private life. 

Bold, brave and enterprising, he was, at the same time, humane 
and generous. He was a good citizen, and greatly esteemed by 
all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. His person was 
above the ordinary size, graceful and commanding; his depoi-tment 
dignified, and his countenance expressive. 

He died in Philadelphia, on the 30th of September, 1803, and 
a vast concourse of his fellow-citizens testified their respect 
to liis memory, by attending his remains to the silent grave." 



NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 423 

NICHOLAS BIDDLE, 

Commodore in the American Navy. 

^'Captain Biddle was born in the city of Philadelphia, in the 
year 1750. Among the brave men who perished in the glorious 
struggle for the independence of America, captain Biddle holds a 
distinguished rank. His services, and the high expectations raised 
by his military genius and gallantry, have left a strong impression 
of his merit, and a profound regret that his early fate should have 
disappointed so soon the hopes of his country. 

"Very early in life he manifested a partiality for the sea, and 
before the age of fourteen he had made a voyage to Quebec, In 
the following year, 1765, he sailed from Philadelphia to Jamaica, 
and the bay of Honduras. The vessel left the bay in the latter 
end of December, 1765, bound to Antigua, and on the second day 
of January, in a heavy gale of wind, she was cast away on a shoal, 
called the Northern Triangles. After remaining two nights and 
a day upon the wreck, the crew took to their yawl, the long-bcat 
having been lost, and with great difficulty and hazard, landed on 
one of the small uninhabited islands, about three leagues distant 
from the reef upon which they had struck. Here they staid a kw • 
days. Some provisions were procured from the wreck, and their 
boat was refitted. As it was too small to carry them all off, they 
drew lots to determine who should remain, and young Biddle was 
among the number. He and his three companions suffered ex- 
treme hardships for want of provisions and good water; and, al- 
though various efforts were made for their relief, it was nearly two 
months before they succeeded. 

"Such a scene of dangers and sufferings in the commencement 
of his career, would have discouraged a youth of ordinary enter- 
prise and perseverance. On him it produced no such effect. — 
The coolness and promptitude with which he acted in the midst of 
perils that alarmed the oldest seamen, gave a sure presage of the 
force of his character; and after he had returned home, he made 
several European voyages, in which he acquired a thorough 
knowledge of seamanship. 

"In the year 1770, when a war between Great Britain and Spain 
was expected, in consequence of the dispute relative to Falkland's 
island, he went to London, in order to enter into the British navy : 



424 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 

He took with him letters of recommendation from Thomas Willing, 
Esq. to his brother-in-law, captain Sterling, on board of whose 
ship he served for some time as a midshipman. The dispute with 
Spain being accommodated, he intended to leave the navy, but 
was persuaded by captain Sterhng, to remain in the service, promis- 
ing that he would use all his interest to get him promoted. His 
ardent mind, however, could not rest satisfied with the inactivity of 
hi*situation, which he was impatient to change for one more suited 
to his disposition. 

"In the year 1773, a voyage of discovery was undertaken, at 
the request of the royal society, in order to ascertain how far navi- 
gation was practicable towards the North Pole, to advance the dis- 
covery of a North-west passage into the South seas, and to make 
such astronomical observations as might prove serviceable to 
navigation. 

"Two vessels, the Race Horse and Carcase, were fitted out for 
the expedition, the command of which was given to captain Phippe. 
afterward lord Mulgrave. The peculiar dangers to which such 
an undertaking was exposed, induced the government to take ex- 
traordinary precautions in fitting out and preparing the vessels and 
selecting the crews, and a positive order was issued, that no boys 
should be received on board. 

To the bold and enterprising spirit of young Biddle, such an ex- 
pedition had great attractions. Extremely anxious to join it, he 
endeavored to procure captain Sterling's permission for that pur- 
pose ; but he was unwilling to part with him, and would not consent 
to let him go. The temptation was, however, irresistible. He 
resolved to go; and having laid aside his uniform, he entered on 
board the Carcase before the mast. Impelled by the same spirit,, 
young Horatio, afterward lord Nelson, had solicited and obtained 
permission to enter on board the same vessel. These youthful 
adventurers are both said to have been appointed cockswains ; a 
station always assigned to the most active and trusty seamen. — 
The particulars of this expedition are well known to the public. 

"These intrepid navigators penetrated as far as the latitude of 
eighty-one degrees and thirty-nine minutes, and they were at one 
time enclosed with mountains of ice, and their vessels rendered 
almost immoveable for five days, at the hazard of instant destruc^ 



NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 425 

tion. Captain Biddle kept a journal of his voyage, which was 
afterward lost with him. 

"The commencement of the revolution gave a new turn to his 
pursuits, and he repaired, without delay, to the standard of his 
country. When a rupture between England and America appeared 
inevitable, he returned to Philadelphia, and soon after his arrival 
he was appointed to the command of the Camden galley, fitted out 
for the defence of the Delaware. He found this too inactive a 
service, and when the fleet was preparing, under commodore Hop- 
kins, for an expedition against New-Providence, he applied for a 
command in the fleet, and was immediately appointed commander 
of the Andrew Doria, a brig of fourteen guns and one hundred and 
thirty men. Paul Jones, who was then a lieutenant, and was go- 
ing on the expedition, was distinguished by captain Biddle, and 
introduced to his friends as an officer of merit. 

"Before he sailed from the capes of Delaware, an incident oc- 
curred, which marked his personal intrepidity. Hearing that two 
deserters from his vessel were at Lewistown in prison, an officer 
was sent on shore for them ; but he returned with information that 
the two men, with some others, had armed themselves, barricaded 
the door, and swore they would not be taken ; that the militia of the 
town had been sent for, but were afraid to open the door, the pris- 
oners threatening to shoot the first man who entered. Captain 
Biddle immediately went to the prison, accompanied by a midship- 
man, and calling to one of the deserters, whose name was Green, 
a stout, resolute fellow, ordered him to open the door : he replied 
that he would not, and if he attempted to enter he would shoot 
him. He then ordered the door to be forced. Entering singly, 
with a pistol in each hand, he called to Green, who was preparing 
to fire, and said, 'Now, Green, if you do not take good aim, you are 
a dead man.' Daunted by his manner, their resolution failed, and 
the militia coming in, secured them. They afterwards declared 
to the officer who furnishes this account, that it was captain Biddle's 
look and manner which had awed them into submission, for that 
they had determined to kill him as soon as he came into the room. 
"Writing from the capes to his brother, the late judge Biddle, he 
says, 'I know not what may be our fate : be it, however, what it 
may, you may be assured I will never cause a blush on the cheeks 
37 



426 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 

of my friends or countrymen.' Soon after they sailed, the small- 
pox broke out and raged with great violence on board the fleet, 
which was manned chiefly by New-England seamen. The hu- 
manity of captain Biddle, always prompt and active, was employed 
on this occasion to alleviate the general distress by all the means 
in his power. His own crew, which was from Philadelphia, 
being secure against the distemper, he took on board great num- 
bers of the sick from the other vessels. Every part of his vessel 
was crowded, the long boat was fitted for their accommodation, and 
he gave up his own cot to a young midshipman, on whom he be- 
stowed the greatest attention till his death. In the meanwhile he 
slept himself upon the lockers, refusing the repeated solicitations 
of his officers to accept their births. On their arrival at New- 
Providence, it surrendered without opposition. The crew of the 
Andrew Doria, from their crowded situation, became sick, and 
before she left Providence, there were not men enough, capable 
of doing duty, to man the boats. Captain Biddle visited them 
every day, and ordered every necessary refreshment; but they 
continued sickly until they arrived at New-London. 

"After refitting at New-London, captain Biddle received orders 
to proceed otf the banks of Newfoundland, in order to intercept the 
transports and store ships bound to Boston. Before he reached 
the banks, he captured two ships from Scotland, with four hun- 
dred Highland troops on board, destined for Boston. At this time 
the Andrew Doria had not one hundred men. Lieutenant Josiah, 
a brave and excellent officer, was put on board one of the prizes, 
with all the Highland officers, and ordered to make the first port. 
Unfortunately, about ten days afterward, he was taken by the 
Cerberus frigate, and on pretence of his being an Englishman, he 
was ordered to do duty, and extremely ill used. Captain Biddle, 
hearing of the ill treatment of lieutenant Josiah, wrote to the ad- 
miral at New-York, that, however disagreeable it was to him, he 
would treat a young man of family, believed to be a son of lord 
Craston, who was then his prisoner, in the manner they treated 
lieutenant Josiah. 

"He also applied to his own government in behalf of this in- 
jured officer; and by the proceedings of congress, on the 7th of 
August, 1776, it appears, 'that a letter from captain Nicholas Bid- 



MCHOLAS BIDDLE. 427 

die to the marine committee was laid before congress and read : 
whereupon, Resolved, That general Washington be directed to 
propose an exchange of lieutenant Josiah, for a lieutenant of the 
navy of Great Britain: that the general remonstrate to lord 
Howe on the cruel treatment lieutenant Josiah has met with, of 
which the congress have received undoubted information.' Lieu- 
tenant Josiah was exchanged, after an imprisonment of ten months. 
After the capture of the ships with the Highlanders, such was 
captain Biddle's activity and success in taking prizes, that when 
he arrived in the Delaware, he had but five of the crew with which 
he sailed from New-London, the rest having been distribn|:ed 
among the captured vessels, and their places supplied by men 
who had entered from the prizes. He had a great number of pris- 
oners, so that, for some days before he got in, he never left the deck. 
"While he was thus indefatigably engaged in weakening the 
enemy's power, and advancing his country's interest, he was dis- 
interested and generous in all that related to his private advan- 
tage. The brave and worthy Opponent, whom the chance of war 
had thrown in his power, found in him a patron and a friend, who, 
oiv more than one occasion was known to restore to the vanquished 
the fruits of victory. 

"In the latter end of the year 1776, captain Biddle was appointed 
to the command of the Randolph, a frigate of thirty-guns. With 
his usual activity he employed every exertion to get her ready for 
sea. The difficulty of procuring American seamen at that time, 
obliged him, in order to man his ship, to take a number of British 
seamen, who were prisoners of war, and who had requested leave 
to enter. 

"The Randolph sailed from Philadelphia in February, 1777. 
Soon after she got to sea, her lower masts were discovered to be 
unsound, and, in a heavy gale of wind, all her masts went by the 
board. While they were bearing away for Charleston, the En- 
glish sailors with some others of the crew, formed a design to take 
the ship. When all was ready, they gave three cheers on the gun 
deck. By the decided and resolute conduct of captain Biddle and 
his officers, the ringleaders were seized and punished, and the rest 
submitted without farther resistance. After refitting at Charles- 
ton as speedily as possible, he sailed on a cruise ; and three days 



428 NICHOLAS BIDDIE. 

after he left the bar, he fell in with four sail of vessels bound from 
Jamaica to London. One of them, called the True Briton, moun- 
ted twenty guns. The commander of her, who had frequently 
expressed to his passengers, his hopes of falling in with the Ran- 
dolph, as soon as he perceived her, made all the sail he could from 
her; but finding he could not escape, he hove to, and kept up a 
constant fire, until the Randolph had bore down upon him, and was 
preparing for a broadside, when he hauled down his colors. By 
her superior sailing, the Randolph was enabled to capture the 
rest of the vessels ; and in one week from the time he sailed front 
Charleston, captain Biddle returned there with his prizes, which 
proved to be very valuable. 

"Encouraged by his spirit and success, the state of South Caro- 
lina made exertions for fitting out an expedition under his command. 
His name, and the personal attachment to him, urged forward a 
crowd of volunteers to serve with him; and, in a short time, the 
ship General Moultrie, the brigs Fair American and Polly, and the 
Notre Dame, were prepared for sea. A detachment of fifty men 
from the first regiment of South Carolina continental infantry. 
were ordered to act as marines on board the Randolph. Such was 
the attachment which the honorable and amiable deportment of 
captain Biddle had impressed during his stay at Charleston, and 
such the confidence inspired by his professional conduct and valor, 
that a general emulation pervaded the corps to have the honor of 
serving under his command. The tour of duty, after a generous 
competition among the officers, was decided to captain Joor and 
lieutenants Grey and Simmons, whose gallant conduct and that of 
their brave detachment, did justice to the high character of the 
regiment. As soon as the Randolph was refitted, and a new main- 
mast obtained in place of one which had been struck with light- 
ning, she dropped down to Rebellion-Roads with her little squadron. 
Their intention was to attack the Carysfort frigate, the Perseus 
twenty -four gun ship, the Hinchinbrook of sixteen guns, and a 
privateer which had been cruising off the bar, and had much an- 
noyed trade. They were detained a considerable time in Rebel- 
lion-Roads, after they were ready to sail, by contrary winds and 
want of water on the bar for the Randolph. 

As soon as they got over the bar, they stood to the eastward, in 



NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 429 

expectation of falling in with the British cruisers. The next day 
they retook a dismasted ship from New-England : as she had no 
cargo on board, they took out her crew, six light guns, and some 
stores, and set her on fire. Finding that the British ships had left 
the coast they proceeded to the West Indies, and cruised to the 
eastward, and nearly in the latitude of Barbadoes, for some days, 
during which time they boarded a number of French and Dutch 
ships, and took an English schooner from New-York, bound to 
Grenada, which had mistaken the Randolph for a British frigate, 
and was taken possession of before the mistake was discovered. 

"On the night of the 7th March, 1778, the fatal accident occur- 
red, which terminated the life of this excellent officer. For some 
days previously, he had expected an attack. Captxiin Blake, a 
brave officer, who commanded a detachment of the second South 
Carolina regiment, serving as marines on board the General Moul- 
trie, and to whom we are indebted for several of the ensuing par- 
ticulars, dined on board the Randolph two days before the engage- 
ment. At dinner, captain Biddle said, 'we have been cruising 
here for some time, and have spoken a number of vessels, who 
will no doubt, give information of us, and I should not be surprised 
if my old ship should be out after ua. As to any thing that 
carries her guns upon one deck, I think myself a match for her.' 
About three P. M. of the 7th of March, a signal v,'rs made from 
the Randolph for a sail to windward, in consequence of which the 
squadron hauled upon a wind, in order to speak her. It was four 
o'clock, before she could be distinctly seen, when she was discov- 
ered to be a ship, though, as she neared and came before the wind, 
she had the appearance of a large sloop with only a square-sail 
set. About seven o'clock, the Randolph being to windward, hove 
to; the Moultrie, being about one hundred and fifty yards astern, 
and rather to leeward, also hove to. About eight o'clock, the 
British ship fired a shot just ahead of the Moultrie, and hailed her ; 
the answer was, the Polly, of New-York; upon which she imme- 
diately hauled her wind and hailed the Randolph. She was then, 
for the first time, discovered to be a two-decker. After several 
questions asked and answered, as she was ranging up along side 
the Randolph, and had got on her weather quarter, lieutenant 
Barnes, of that ship, called out 'this is the Randolph,' and she 
37* 



430 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 

immediately hoisted her colors and gave the enemy a broadside. 
Shortly after the action commenced, captain Biddle received a 
wound in the thigh and fell. This occasioned some confusion, as 
it was at first thought that he was killed. He soon, however, or- 
dered a chair to be brought, said that he was only slightly wounded, 
and being carried forward, encouraged the crew. The stern of 
the enemy's ship being clear of the Randolph, the captain of the 
Moultrie gave orders to fire, but the enemy having shot ahead, so 
as to bring the Randolph between them, the last broadside of the 
]\Ioultrie, went into the Randolph, and it was thought by one of 
the men saved, who was stationed on the quarter-deck near captain 
Biddle, that he was wounded by a shot from the Moultrie. The fire 
from the Randolph was constant and well directed. She fired 
nearly three broadsides to the enemy's one, and she appeared, 
while the battle lasted, to be in a continual blaze. In about 
twenty minutes after the action began, and while the surgeon was 
examining captain Riddle's wound on the quarter-deck, the Ran- 
dolph blew up. 

"The enemy's vessel was the British ship Yarmouth, of sixty- 
four guns, commanded by captain Vincent. So closely were they 
engaged, that captain Morgan, of the Fair American, and all his 
crew, thought that it was the enemy's ship that had blown up. He 
stood for the Yarmouth, and had a trumpet in his hand to hail and 
inquire how captain Biddle was, when he discovered his mistake. 
Owing to the disabled condition of the Yarmouth, the other vessels 
escaped. 

The cause of the explosion was never ascertained, but it is re- 
markable, that just before he sailed, after the clerk had copied the 
signals and orders for the armed vessels that accompanied him, he 
wrote at the foot of them, 'in case of coming to action in the night, 
be very careful of your magazines.' The number of persons on 
board the Randolph was three hundred and fifteen, who all perished 
except four men, who were tossed about for four days on a 
piece of the wreck before they were discovered and taken up. — 
From the information of two of these men, who were afterward 
in Philadelphia, and of some individuals in the other vessels of 
the squadron, we have been enabled to state some particulars of 
this unfortunate event, in addition to the accounts given of it by 



EDWARD PREBLE. 431 

Dr. Ramsey, in his History of the American revolution, and in 
his History of the revokition of South Carohna. In the former 
work, the historian thus concludes his account of the action : 'cap- 
tain Biddle, who perished on board the Randolph, was universally 
lamented. He was in the prime of life, and had excited high ex- 
pectations of future usefulness to his country, as a bold and skilful 
na\-al officer.' 

"Thus prematurely feJl, at the age of twenty-seven, as gallant 
an officer as any country ever boasted of. In the short career 
which Providence allowed to him, he displayed all those qualities 
which constitute a great soldier. Brave to excess, and consum- 
mately skilled in his profession, no danger nor unexpected event 
could shake his firmness, or disturb his presence of mind. An 
exact and rigid disciplinarian, he tempered his authority with so 
much humanity and affability, that his orders were always exe- 
cuted with cheerfulness and alacrity. Perhaps no officer ever 
understood better the art of commanding the affections, as well as 
the respect of those who served under him, if that can be called 
an art, which was rather the natural effect of the benevolence and 
magnanimity of his character." — Rogers' American Biographi- 
cal Dictionary. 



EDWARD PREBLE, 

Co>IMODORE IN THE AsiERICAN NaVY. 

"Jedediah Preble held the commission of brigadier-general 
under the colonial government of Massachusetts Bay. In the 
struggle for independence, he took a decided stand in opposition 
to the encroachments of the British crown, and during that con- 
test was for several years a member of the council and senate of 
that state. He died in the year 1783, aged seventy-seven, having 
been gratified by the Disposer of human events to live just long 
enough to see perfected the emancipation of this country from Eu- 
ropean thraldom, a blessing partly denied to Moses, who was only 
permitted to view the promised land at a distance, and then ex- 
pired. 

"This gentleman, in the year 1761, resided in a part of Fal- 
mouth, called the Casco bay, now Portland, in the province of 
Maine, where his son Edward, the subject of this memoir, was 



432 EDWARD PREBLE. 

born on the 15th of August, in that year. In his infantile years, 
he discovered a persevering and bold temper. His form was ro- 
bust, his constitution strong, and invigorated by athletic sports. — 
His father placed him at Dunimer academy, Newbury, where he 
received the rudiments of a Latin and English education, under a 
Mr. Samuel Moody, a gentleman in high respect for his integrity 
and literary qualifications. 

"In contrariety to the wishes and expectations of his father, he, 
at an early period, manifested a predilection for the sea, and as 
he persisted in his inclination, his father at last deemed it proper 
to gratify him. Hence he left school at the dawn of the revolu- 
tion, and instead of entering a freshman at college, he entered a 
freshman on board a letter of marque, captain Friend, and made 
his first voyage in a trip to Europe. At the age of eighteen, he was 
a midshipman onboard the state ship Protector, of twenty -six guns, 
captain John Foster Williams, in 1779. On her first cruise he 
had to perform his part in a hard fought action with the English 
letter of marque, Duff, carrying thirty-six guns, off" Newfoundland, 
when the enemy at last blew up. Scarcely forty of the crew 
were saved. During his second cruise, the Protector was cap- 
tured, and her principal officers sent prisoners to England, with 
tile exception of Preble, who was released at New- York, through 
the influence of colonel William Tyng, his father's intimate friend. 
As soon as he had obtained his liberty, he returned home. 

"Mr. George Williams, the late first lieutenant of the Protector, 
having been appointed to command the sloop of war Winthrop, 
then fitting out at Boston, Mr. Preble entered as first lieutenant, 
and continued in her until the peace of 1783,- rendering many es- 
sential services in the line of his duty. His daring courage and 
presence of mind in the midst of danger, will be best illustrated 
by the following anecdote : 

"Captain Little, having the tender of an English armed brig, 
which lay in the harbor of Penobscot, was advised of certain cir- 
cumstances, Avhich induced him to attempt her capture by surprise. 
To accomplish this object, he run along side of the brig in the 
night, and had forty boarders dressed in white frocks, to distin- 
guish thera from the enemy. As he advanced, he was taken for 



EDWARD PREBLE. 433 

the brig's tender, hailed, and directed to run aboard. Little's re- 
ply was, that he was coming aboard. 

"As Little came along side the brig, lieutenant Preble, and 
fourteen of the party appointed for the purpose, jumped on board ; 
but the rapidity of the vessel's passage prevented the remainder 
from following. Captain Little, finding the precariousness of Pre- 
ble's situation, hailed him, desiring to know if he would not have 
more men. His reply, indicative of great presence of mind, was, 
*no, we have more than wc want; we stand in each other's way. 
The brig being within pistol-shot of the shore, the chief part of the 
enemy on deck leaped overboard, and swam to land ,• who were 
followed by some who made their escape through the cabin win- 
dows. The officers were just rising as Preble entered their cabin ; 
he assured them that they were his prisoners, and that any resis- 
tance would be vain and fatal to them. The vessel of course was 
surrendered, as was supposed, to a superior force. Notwithstand- 
ing a brisk cannonade and a firing of musketry from a battery on 
shore, Preble beat his prize out of the hai'bor, and arrived at Bos- 
ton without injury. The knowledge of this gallant achievement 
.greatly enhanced his reputation as a naval officer. 

"From the peace of 1783, to the year 1798, he pursued with 
unblemished reputation, his professional career in the mercantile 
employment, with the varied success generally attendant on com- 
mercial enterprise. About this period, when there was every ap- 
pearance of immediate hostilities between the United States and 
France, congress determined to create a navy, and Mr. Preble 
was one of the five first lieutenants appointed for the naval estab- 
lishment, which has since shed so much lustre on the American 
character for nautical skill, daring courage, and chivalrous achieve- 
ment, 

"In the fall and winter of 1798 — 9, he was commander of the 
brig Pickering, in which he made two cruises; and in 1799, he 
was promoted to be captain, and had the command of the Essex 
frigate, of thirty-six guns. With this frigate, in company with 
the frigate Congress, captain Sever, he sailed for Batavia in Jan- 
uary, 1800, to convoy the American homeward bound vessels, 
trading in the Indian seas. The day after leaving port, the two 
frigates parted in a snow storm from the shipping under convoy, 



434 EDWARD FEEBLE. 

outwardly bound. The Congress returned dismasted; the Essex 
proceeded, and after waiting for captain Sever some time at the 
Cape of Good Hope, he departed for Batavia. Before and after 
he arrived at the port, he made two cruises, of a fortnight duration 
each, in the Straits of Sunda. 

"In June he sailed homeward bound, with fourteen merchant- 
men, valued at several millions of dollars. From these he separ- 
ated off the Banks of Lagullos, in a severe squall ; but most of 
them rejoined him at St. Helena, from whence he convoj'ed then! 
out of danger. Off the Isle of France of Mauritius, he gave 
chase to a French corvette, which escaped in a calm by means 
of her sweeps. Toward the close of this year, captain Preble 
arrived at New-York. Ill health induced him afterward to resign- 
to captain Campbell the command of the frigate Adams, destined 
for the Mediterranean. Having somewhat recovered from his 
indisposition, he was, in May, 1803, appointed to the command of 
the frigate Constitution, lying at Boston, with orders to prepare her 
for sea. In June a squadron destined to act against Tripoli was 
entrusted to his direction. The naval force consisted of seven 
sail. The Constitution, forty-four guns ; Philadelphia, forty -four; 
Argus, brig, eighteen ; Syren, Nautilus, and Vixen, sixteen each; 
and Enterprise, fourteen. Every thing being ready, he set sail 
for the object of his destination, on the 13th of August. Having 
arrived at Gibraltar, where he was apprised of the unfavorable 
aspect of affairs between the United States and the emperor of 
Morocco, captain Bainbridge detained a Moorish cruiser, of twen- 
ty-two guns and one hundred men, called the Mirboka, which had 
sailed from Tangier on the 7th of the same month. On board of 
this vessel he found, among her papers, an unsigned order, author- 
ising her commander to cruise against the Americans. From 
that circumstance, as well as her having captured the American 
brig, Celia, captain Bowen, which was then in company, captain 
Bainbridge deemed the A!j|porish vessel to be good prize, and res- 
tored the Celia to her proper commander. 

"The last of May, captain Rodgers had detained the Mishouda, 
a Tripolitan vessel under Morocco colors. She had a passport 
from the American consul, with a reserve for blockaded ports. — 
She was taken attempting to go into Tripoli, which captain Rod- 



EDWARD PREBLE. 435 

gers, in the John Adams, was known to be blockading. On board 
her were guns and other contraband articles not in her when she 
received her passport at Gibraltar; also twenty Tripoline subjects 
taken in at Algiers. The appearance was that she had been taken 
under the imperial flag for the purpose of being restored to our 
enemy. The emperor denied authorising the attempt of the Mis- 
houda, and said, if she was given up, the captain should be pun- ' 
ished. The governor, Hashash, on learning the capture of the 
Mirboka, at which time the emperor was absent, declared she 
acted without authority, and that war was not intended. At the 
same time her captain certified that this governor gave him his or- 
ders. Hashash was and continued to be, in the confidence of Mu- 
ley Soliman. ■''*^ 

"The next day after his arrival, commodore Preble wrote to the 
consul, Simpson, at Tangier, desiring him to assure the Moorish 
court that the United States wished peace with his majesty, if it 
could be had on proper terms — that he could not suppose the em- 
peror's subjects would dare to make war without his permission; 
but as their authority was disavowed by the governor, he should 
punish, as a pirate, every Moorish cruiser who should be found to 
have taken an American. Commodore Rodgers, on whom the 
command of the former squadron under Morris devolved, and who 
was under orders to return to the United States with the frigates 
New- York and John Adams, agreed to remain a few days on the 
station, and to join commodore Preble in Tangier bay, to assist 
in effecting an adjustment. 

"On the 17th, taking into his ship the principal Moorish officers 
of the two prizes, he appeared with the Constitution and John Ad- 
ams in Tangier bay, hoisting the white flag in token of peace, but 
having the men at their quarters. Mr. Simpson, however, was 
not permitted to come on board, nor to write, except on an open 
slip of paper, being confined to his house, with two sentinels at 
his door. Another act of hostility had been done at Mogadore, 
by an order to detain all American vessels, and the actual seizure 
of the brig Hannah, of Salem, Joseph M. Williams master. 

"The commodore determined to adopt a high tone, and vigorous 
measures. He observes, in his communications to the govern- 
ment, "that all the Barbary powers, except Algiers, appear to have 



436 EDWARD PKEBLE. 

a disposition to quarrel with us, unless we tamely submit to any 
propositions they may choose to make. Their demands will in- 
crease, and be such as our government ought not to comply with. 
They send out their cruisers : if they prove successful, it is war, 
and we must purchase peace, suffering them to keep all they have 
taken — and if they are unfortunate, and we capture their cruisers 
before they have taken any thing valuable, it is not war, although 
the orders for capturing are found on board, and we must restore 
all." This he believed ought not to be suffered. Under these 
impressions, he did not hesitate to use his discretion, although 
specific instructions on this subject were not given, and to follow 
his own ideas on what expadiency and honor required ; taking a 
firm attitude towards the aggressor. This he would have done, 
and risked the consequences, if he had been backed by no other 
force than that of his own squadron. The co-operation of commo- 
dore Rodgers with the two frigates under his control, left no room 
for question. Our consul believed the emperor of Morocco had 
long meditated to make war, as soon as he could do it with a pros- 
pect of impunity. It was, therefore, essential to make him feel 
that the system of concession was abandoned. Accordingly the 
commodore gave orders to his squadron, to bring in for examina- 
tion, all vessels belonging to the emperor and his subjects ; des- 
patched three vessels to cruise off Mogadore, Salle, and Zarachi, 
and one off Tetuan, and entered the bay of Tangier at several 
times. — That the Tripolitans might not think they were forgotten, 
he despatched the Philadelphia and Vixen to lie before Tripoli. 

"The consul, Simpson, made representations to the emperor, 
before and after the arrival of commodore Preble. The answers 
received were general, but showed that if he had authorised war, 
he was now prepared to disavow it. 

"On the 5th of October, when his majesty was expected, the 
commodore anchored, with the Nautilus in company, in Tangier 
bay — the circular battery at the town one mile and a half distant. 
Here he remained, only changing his ground once to be nearer the 
town, until peace was concluded. He was joined in the afternoon 
of the 0th by the frigates New-York and John Adams, The ship 
was kept constantly cleared for action, and the men at quarters 
night and day. On the 6th, his majesty arrived with a great body 



EDWARD PHEBLE. 437 

of troops, horse and foot, estimated at five thousand, who encamped 
on the beach opposite the squadron. The commodore was careful 
to order the ship dressed, and a salute of twenty-one guns, which 
was returned from the fort with an equal number, as was the sa- 
Jute of the other frigates in the morning following. A present of 
bullocks, sheep, and fowls, was ordered for the squadron, as a to- 
ken of the emperor's good will. 

"On the 8th, the emperor, with his court and a large body of 
troops, visited the batteries on the bay, for the purpose of viewing 
the United States' squadron, when the Constitution saluted agam 
with twenty-one guns; a compliment with which his majesty was 
very much gratified. The present arriving at the same time, it 
was acknowledged by three guns, according to the Moorish cus- 
tom. The following day the consul gave notice, that the emperor 
had given orders to the governor of Mogadore, for the release of 
the American brig detained in that place, and that Monday wag 
appointed for giving an audience to the commodore and consul. 

"On the day assigned, the 1 1th, the commodore, accompanied 
by colonel Lear, Mr. Morris, as a secretary, and two midshipmen, 
landed at Tangier, for the proposed audience. He believed there 
was no danger in landing; but he expressed his desire, that if ho 
should be forcibly detained, the commanding officer on board should 
not enter into a treaty for his release, but open a fire upon the 
town. They were ushered into the presence of the sovereign, 
through a double file of guards. The commodore at the entrance, 
was requested, according to Moorish custom in such cases, to la.y 
aside his side-arms. He said he must comply with the custom of 
his own country, and retain them, whi^h was allowed. On coming 
into the imperial presence, the epiperor expressed much sorrow 
that any difference had arisen, for he was at peace with the United 
States. He disavowed havi>ig given any hostile orders; said he 
would restore all Americ^^i vessels and property detained in con- 
sequence of any acts of his governors, and renew and confirm the 
treaty made with his ftther in 1786. The commodore and consuJ, 
on the part of the Uiited States, promised that the vessels and 
property of the en^eror should be restored, and the orders of cap- 
ture revoked. The commodore received a formal ratification of 
the treaty of 1786, and a letter of friendship and peace to the pre~ 
38 



438 EDWARD PREBLE. 

sident, signed by the emperor. Thus, by the happy union of pru- 
dence and energy, our affairs with this piratical despot were placed 
in a better condition than before the variance. 

"The commodore having nothing to fear from Morocco, was at 
liberty to direct his principal attention to Tripoli. The season, 
however, was too far advanced for active and permanent opera- 
tions against the enemy. Yet this officer did not indulge himself 
in repose, or suffer his forces to be idle. In cruising where they 
necessarily, at this time of the year, encountered a rough sea and 
tempestuous weather; in supplying convoy, and in maintaining the 
blockade at Tripoli, when practicable, the squadron was fully and 
arduously employed. The Philadelphia and Vixen had been 
ordered to the coast of Tripoli. The commodore now formally 
declared the blockade of that place, and sent notice of the fact to 
the ministers and consuls of the United States, to be communicated 
to the respective neutral powers. He found it expedient to go to 
Cadiz, in order to make up his complement of men, and procure a 
few supplies not to be obtained at that time at Gibraltar. He re- 
turned from Cadiz on the 6th of November, and after making a 
suitable disposal of his force, proceeded to Algiers, where he was 
to leave colonel Lear, the consul-general. On the 22d, he sailed 
from Algiers, for Syracuse ; and on his voyage was informed of the 
disastrous loss of the Philadelphia, captain William Bainbridge. 
The following is a brief account of that melancholy event: 

"On the 31st of October, after pursuing a Tripoline corsair till 
she came to seven fathoms water, in beating off she run on a rock 
not laid down on any chart, about four and a half miles from the 
town. Every exertion to gtt her off proved ineffectual. Mean- 
while, she was attacked by nu-rierous gun-boats, which she with- 
stood for four hours, whilst the caiqening of the ship made the guns 
totally useless. A reinforcement -rooming off, and no possible 
means of resisting them appearing, thb captain submitted to the 
horrid necessity of striking to his barbarous enemy. In forty- 
eight hours, the wind blowing in shore, theTripolitans were able 
to get off the frigate, and having raised her g;uns, towed her into 
the harbor. The commodore apprehended the worst from this 
diminution of his force ; a war with Tunis, and perhaps with Al- 
giers ; at least a protraction of the present war. He was, however, 



EDWARD PSEBLE. 439 

induced to hope that government would repair this loss by another 
frigate in the Spring, and would also furnish him with more small 
vessels or gun-boats. 

"On the 14th of December, he sailed with the Enterprise, on a 
winter cruise, amidst boisterous weather; for many days it blew a 
gale. On the morning of the 23d, the Enterprise captured a ketch 
in sight of Tripoli. She was under Turkish colors, and naviga- 
ted by Turks and Greeks, but had on board two Tripolitan officers 
of distinction, a son of one of the officers, a number of Tripoline 
soldiers, and forty or more blacks, men and women, slaves belong- 
ing to the bashaw and his subjects. He at first determined to re 
lease the vessel and men claimed by the Turkish captain, and 
retain the Tripolines, about sixty in number, as prisoners; hoping 
they would aftbrd an advantage in negotiation, and perhaps be ex- 
changed for some of our countrymen. But before his determina- 
tion was executed, he ascertained that the captain had been active 
in taking the Philadelphia. Having received on board this very 
vessel one hundred Tripolitans, armed with swords and muskets, 
and substituted the colors of the enemy for his own, he assaulted 
£he frigate, and when she was boarded, plundered the officers. — 
He had, therefore, no hesitation in retaining the vessel. As she 
was not in a condition to be sent to the United States, he transmit- 
ted her papers to government, and some time after had her ap- 
praised, and took her into the service as the ketch Intrepid. 

"February the 3d, 1804, lieutenant Stephen Decatur, with sev- 
enty volunteers in the Intrepid, and accompanied by the Syren, 
sailed for Tripoli, with a view to destroy the frigate Philadelphia. 
On the 16th, the service was accomplished in the most gallant 
manner. Lieutenant Decatur entered the harbor of Tripoli in 
the night, and laying his vessel alongside the frigate, boarded and 
carried her against all opposition. The assailants then set fire to 
her and left her. She was soon in a complete blaze, and was to- 
tally consumed. 

"From this time to the bombardment of Tripoli, the commodore 
was occupied in keeping up the blockade of the harbor, and in 
making preparations for an attack. He took the utmost pains to 
convey supplies and information to captain Bainbridge and his 
officers and men ; and after a time, by means of the good offices of 



440 EDWARD PREBLE . 

Sir Alexander Ball, succeeded. He tried several times to nego- 
tiate for a ransom and treaty; but the demands of the regency 
were sometimes ridiculously extravagant, and when lowest, beyond 
what he thought himself permitted to accede to. The designs of 
warfare he had entertained were checked by a solicitude for the 
release of his countrymen; though he may by some persons, per- 
haps, be thought to have indulged too far his aversion to the pay- 
ment of a considerable ransom. He found himself able to make 
their situation as comfortable as the nature of it would admit; and 
he believed that the infliction of suffering and terror, when the 
time should come, upon the enemy, would not produce any long 
continued aggravation of the evils of their condition, whilst it 
would essentially serve his country. Indeed, after the destruc- 
tion of the Philadelphia, the bashaw at first affected to avenge him- 
self by a severe treatment of the captives; but this was not per- 
sisted in. 

"•When the first consul of France, in March, at the instance of 
Mr. Livingston, directed his commissary at this regency to medi- 
ate for their release, Mr. Beaussier undertook the office, and an" 
nounced to the commodore that one hundred and fifty thousand 
dollars, with some usual gratuities, would probably effect the ob- 
ject, and that perhaps a cartel for the exchange of prisoners might 
be negotiated, which would reduce the sum. The commodore did 
not think himself authorised to agree to these terms, and never 
would go beyond eighty thousand ; not that the amount was impor- 
tant, except on principle, and as it might affect our relations with 
the other Barbary powers. From first to last, it was a point of 
honor with the bashaw, not to give up the American captives for a 
less sum than had been usually received from most of the powers 
of Europe in similar cases. But he was glad at last to accept of 
sixty thousand dollars, satisfied, no doubt, that our naval armament 
would be coeval at least with his hostility. 

"On the 1st of April, the commodore went to display his force 
at Tunis, where he found a Tripoline polaci-e dismantled, having 
been blockaded for sixteen days by captain Decatur. The bey of 
Tunis, had for some time been uneasy at his treaty with the United 
States, and insisted that the commodore should land and satisfy 
him for some property alleged to be unlawfully seized by the 



EDWARD PREBLE. 441 

former squadron. The commodore made answer, that it was not 
his business, and that he must put to sea. He found it necessary 
to watch Tunis during the whole of his command. In the spring 
he took another prize, a TripoUne; and upon the presumption of 
her being condemned, she was estimated, equipped, put in commis- 
sion, and called the Scourge. 

"Finding that the expected force did not arrive from the United 
States, our officers resolved to endeavor to make some use of the 
friendship of Naples. Although he was without diplomatic author- 
ity, the minister, general Acton, from personal regard and good 
will to the service, favored his application to the king, and the com- 
modore obtained, as a friendly loan to the United States, six gun- 
boats and two bomb vessels, completely fitted for service, also lib- 
erty to ship twelve or fifteen Neapolitans to serve under our flag 
in each boat. 

"With this addition to his armament, on the 21st of July, he 
joined the detachment off Tripoli, where his force consisted of the 
Constitution, forty-four guns, the brigs Argus and Syren, eighteen 

guns each, the Scourge, , the schooners Vixen and Nautilus, 

si.xteen guns each, and the Enterprise, fourteen guns. 

"The enemy had on his castle and several batteries, one hun- 
dred and fifteen guns; fifty-five of which were heavy battering 
brass cannon, the others long eighteen and twelve pounders ; 
nineteen gun-boats, with each a lon^ brass eighteen or twenty- 
four pounder in the bow, and two howitzers abaft. He had two 
schooners of eighteen guns ^ach, a brig of ten, and two galleys, 
having each four guns. Txi addition to the ordinary Turkish gar- 
rison stationed upon tl-^ fortifications, and the crews of the boats 
and armed vessels, oomputed at about three thousand, the bashaw 
had called in to-'^e defence of the city more than twenty thousand 
Arabs. 

On the -id of August, the squadron was, at noon, within two or 
three miles of their batteries. The commodore, observing that 
several of the enemy's boats had taken a station without the reef 
of rocks which covers the entrance of the harbor, about two miles 
from its bottom, resolved to take advantage of this circumstance, 
and made signal for the squadron to come within speaking dis- 
tance, when he communicated to the several commanders his in- 
38* 



442 EDWARD PREBLE. 

tention of attacking the shipping and batteries. The gun and 
mortar boats were immediately manned and prepared to cast off. 
At half past one o'clock, the squadron stood for the batteries; at 
two, cast off the gun-boats; at half past two, signal for. the bombs 
and boats to advance and attack; and in fifteen minutes after, sig- 
nal was given for general action. It was commenced by the bombs 
throwing shells into the town. In an instant the enemy's line 
opened a tremendous fire from not less than two hundred guns, 
which was promptly returned by the whole squadron, now within 
musket shot of the principal batteries. 

"At this moment captain Decatur, with three gun-boats, attacked 
the enemy's eastern division, consisting of nine. He was soon 
in the centre of them; and the fire of grape, langrage, and mus- 
quetry, was changed to a deadly personal combat with the bayo- 
net, spear, sabre, and tomahawk. It would be impossible, in our 
limits^ to enter into a detail of the gallant exploits of our country- 
men upon this trying occasion. The Turks fought with despera- 
tion ; Decatur took two of their boats, in which were thirty-three 
officers and men killed, and twenty-seven made prisoners, of whom 
nineteen were severely wounded. 

"Lieutenant Trippe boarded one of the large boats, with only 
a midshipman, Mr. Jonathan Henley, and nine men. His boat 
falling off before any more could join him, he was left to conquer 
or to perish, with the fearful <idds of eleven to thirty-six. In a 
few minutes, however, the enemy -vas subdued; fourteen of them 
wst their lives, and twenty-two submlt^<^d to be prisioners; lieuten- 
ant Trippe received eleven sabre wounth, some of which were 
deep and dangerous. Mr. Henley at this rMicontre displayed a 

valor, joined to a coolness, that would have honoied a veteran. 

Lieutenant Bainbridge had his lateen yard shot away, which baf- 
tied his utmost exertion to get along side the enemy's Vioats, but 
fiis active and well directed fire, within musket shot, was vgry 
effective. 

"Captain Somers was not able to fetch far enough to windward 
{«> to-operate with Decatur. But he bore down upon the leeward 
division of the enemy, and with hissingle boat, within pistol-shot, 
aitackcd five full manned boats, defeated and drove them, in a 



EDWARD PREBLE. 443 

shattered condition, and with the loss of many lives, under shel- 
ter of the rocks. 

"The two bomb-vessels kept their station, although often cov- 
ered with the spray of the sea, occasioned by the enemy's shot. — 
They kept up a constant fire, and threw a great number of shells 
into the town. Five of the enemy's gun-boats and two galleys, 
composing their centre division, stationed within the rock, joined 
by the boats which had been driven in, and reinforced* twice at^ 
tempted to row out and surround our gun-boats and prizes. Thev 
were as often foiled by the vigilance of the commodore, who gave 
signal to the brigs and schooners to cover them, which was prompt- 
ly attended to by those vessels, all of which was gallantly con- 
ducted, and annoyed the enemy exceedingly. The fire of the 
Constitution had its ample share in this bombardment. It kept the 
flotilla in constant disorder, and produced no inconsiderable cftect 
on shore. 

"At half past four, the wind inclining to the northward, and at 
the same tiftie the enemy's flotilla having retreated behind coverts 
which shielded them from our shot, while our people were neces- 
sarily much exhausted by two hours and a half severe exertion, 
signal was given for the gun-boats and bombs to retire from action ; 
and immediately after for the brigs and schooners to take the gun- 
boats and their prizes in tow, ^vhich was handsomely executed, 
the whole covered by a heavy fire from the Constitution. In fif- 
teen minutes the whole squadron was out of reach of the enemy's 
shot, and the commodore hauled off to give tow to the bomb-ketches. 

"On board the frigate not a man was killed. The other vessels 
and boats suffered in their riggings, and had sundry men wounded, 
but lost none, except lieutenant Decatur, the brother of the cap- 
tain Decatur, so conspicuous in this war. ■ Several circumstances 
explain this impunity of our squadron. Where the engagement 
was close, as with the boats, the impetuosity of the attack, as well 
as our most dexterous use of the weapons of destruction, over- 
powered and appalled the enemy. The Barbarians are unskilful 
gunners. The shower of grape-shot annoyed and discomposed 
them, in the application of what little skill they possessed. 

"Very different was the result of this conflict to the enemy. — 
The American fire was not an empty peal, but a messenger of 



444 EDWARD PREBLE, 

death in every direction. The three captured boats had one hun- 
dred and three men on board; forty-seven of whom were killed^ 
twenty-sLx wounded, and thirty only remained fit for duty. Three 
other boats were sunk with their entire crews, and the decks of 
their vessels in the harbor were swept of numbers. Many guns 
of the forts were dismounted,andthe town was considerably dam- 
aged. 

"This action on Tripoli displayed in an eminent degree, the 
penetration and energy of the commodore, and his power of in- 
fusing his own spirit of heroism into his officers and men. This 
achievement, as might be expected, made a powerful impression 
on the mind of the enemy. The burning of the Philadelphia 
could not fail to make the bashaw and his people, apprehend some- 
thing serious, from the present commander. When the squadron 
was seen standing in, however, he affected contempt, and survey- 
ing them from his palace, observed, "They will mark their dis- 
tance for tacking; they area sort of Jews, who have no notion of 
fighting." The palace and terraces of the houses were covered 
with spectators, to see the chastisement the bashaw's boats would 
give the squadron, if they approached too near. This exultation 
was very transient; for the battle was scarcely joined, when no 
one was seen on shore,. except on the batteries. An intelligent 
officer of the Philadelphia, then, in captivity, observed that the 
Turks asked if those men that fought so were Americans, or in- 
fernals in Christian shape, sent to destroy the sons of the Pro- 
phet! 

"On the 5th of August, the commodore prevailed on a French 
privateer, which had left Tripoli that morning, to return with four- 
teen wounded Tripolines, whose wounds had been carefully 
dressed, and whom the commodore sent with a letter to the ba- 
shaw's minister. These prisoners, it is said, informed the prince 
that the Americans in battle were fiercer than lions ; but in the 
treatment of their captives, were even more kind than Mussul- 
men. On the 7th, the privateer returned with a letter from the 
French consul, signifying that the bashaw had very much low- 
ered his tone, and would probably treat on reasonable terms. But 
nothing satisfactory being proposed by the enemy, and the terms 
intimated being higher than the commander was authorised to 



EDWARD PREBLE. 445 

make, ho prepared for a second attack. At half past two the as- 
sault was made. Within two hours, six of the seven ouns were 
silenced. Forty-eight shells, and about five hundred round shot, 
twenty-four pounders, were thrown into the town and batteries, 
when, between five and six, P. M., the squadron retired from ac- 
tion. During the engagement, the enemy's gun-boats and gal- 
leys mancEuvred to gain a position to cut off" the retreat of ours; 
but the larger vessels were so arranged as to defeat their design. 
The loss this day, was twenty-two killed and six wounded, two of 
them mortally. 

"At eight in the evening, the John Adams, captain Chauncey, 
joined the squadron. By him the commodore had the first official 
notice that four frigates were on their passage to reinforce his de- 
tachment. At the same time, also, he learned that, by the ap- 
pointment of a senior officer to one of the frigates, he would be 
superseded in the command. The government were highly satis- 
fied with the commodore, but they had not a sufficient number of 
captains, junior to Preble, to supply all the frigates sent out; and 
they did not think the saving of his feelings would justify the cre- 
ation of any others. Had they, however, known or anticipated 
his brilliant success at this time, they would probably have ven- 
tured upon the promotion of one or two of the gallant lieutenants 
in the Mediterranean, in order to keep the commodore in the chief 
command. 

"As the frigates were to sail four days after the John Adams, 
farther operations were suspended, in expectation of their arrival . 
No assistance could be received from this frigate, as her guns had 
been stowed by the kelson, and their carriages put away into the 
other frigates to make room for her cargo, she being sent out as a 
transport. 

"On the 9th, commodore Preble, in the brig Argus, reconnoitred 
the harbor. The next day a flag of truce was seen flying on the 
castle. The commodore sent a boat on shore, which was not per- 
mitted to land, but returned with a letter from the French consul, 
advising the commodore that the bashaw would accept five hun- 
dred dollars each for the ransom of the prisoners, and terminate 
the war without any consideration or annuity for peace. 

"The amount of the demand was about one hundred and fifty 



446 EDWARD PREBLE. 

thousand dollars, which the commodore rejected; but for the sake 
of the captives, and to save the further effusion of blood, offered 
eighty thousand, and ten thousand for presents. After beginning 
to treat with the French commissary-general, the bashaw sus- 
pended the negotiation, saying he would wait the result of another 
attack. On the night of the 23d, the bomb-vessels, under protec- 
tion of the gun-boats, were sent in to bombard the town. The 
bombardment commenced at two, A. M. and continued till day- ^ 
light, but without much effect. 

"On the 27th, the weather proving favorable, the commodore i 
stood in for Tripoli, and anchored his ship two miles N. by E. from, 
fort English; the light vessels keeping under way. A number of 
his officers and many of the seamen being employed in the boatSy 
captain Chauncey, with several of his officers and about sevejity , 
seamen, volunteered their services on board the Constitution. 

"The gun-boats, accompanied by the Syren, Ai^i!lt> Vixen, Nau- 
tilus, Enterprise, and boats of the squadron, anchored at three in 
the morning, within pistol-shot of the enemy's lines, with springs- 
on their cables, and commenced a brisk firing on their shipping, 
town, batteries and castle, which was warmly returned. The 
ship's boats remained with the gun-boats, to assist in boarding the 
flotilla, in case it should come out, and the brigs and schooners 
were kept under way to harass the enemy, or to assist the gun- 
boats. At day-light, apprehensive that the ammunition in the 
gun-boats must be nearly exhausted, the commodore weighed an- 
chor, and made signal for the gun-boats to retire from action. 
When arrived within a sure distance, he opened his battery with 
round and grape shot, upon thirteen gun-boats and galleys, which 
were closely engaged with ours, sunk one of them, disabled two. 
and put the rest to flight. He continued running in, until within 
musket-shot of the batteries, when he hove too, fired three hun- 
dred round shot, besides grape and cannister, into the bashaw's 
castle, the town, and batteries. He silenced the castle and two 
of the batteries, and a little after six, hauled off. The gun-boats 
fired four hundred round shot, besides grape and cannister, with 
evident effect. 

"The French commissary now renewed the negotiation for 
peace ; but it was broken off, in consequence, as he thought, of 



EDWARD PREBLE. 447 

one of the squadron approaching the harbor as a cartel ; which he 
said was interpreted by the ignorant and mistrustful bashaw, as a 
proof of discouragement on the part of the invader. 

"On the 3d of September, the bomb-ketches being repaired, as 
well as the damages sustained by the other vessels in the action 
of the 27th, the squadron was again ready, and disposed for an- 
other attack on the town and batteries. Between three and four 
o'clock the action commenced, and soon became general. But the 
wind veering to the northward, and beginning to blow fresh, at 
half past four, P. M. he gave the signal to retire from action, under 
cover of the Constitution. In this engagement, although the fri- 
gate and vessels were much damaged, not a man was lost. The 
bomb-vessel commanded by lieutenant Robinson, had all her 
shrouds shot away, and was so shattered in the hull as to be kept 
above the water with difficulty. The Argus received a thirty-two 
pound shot in her hull, which cut away a bower cable as it en- 
tered, and which so checked its velocity, that it fell upon deck 
without doing injury. 

The commodore had for some time contemplated sending a fire- 
ship into the harbor to destroy the flotilla, and, at the same time, 
throw a quantity of shells into the town. Captain Somers volun- 
teered in this service, and with the assistance of lieutenants Wads- 
worth and Israel, fitted out the ketch Intrepid for this expedition. 
A hundred bai-rels of gunpowder, and one hundred and fifly fixed 
shells, were placed m the hold, with fuzes and combustibles so 
applied as to fire them without endangering the retreat of the 
adventurers. On the evening of the 4th of September, captain 
Somers chose two fast rowing boats from the squadron, to bring 
off the people after having fired the vessel. His own boat was 
manned by four seamen from the Nautilus, with lieutenant Wads- 
worth and six men from the Constitution. At eight they parted 
from the squadron and stood into the harbor, convoyed by the Ar- 
gus, Vixen, and Nautilus, to within a short distance of the batteries. 
Having gained the inner harbor, and got near to the point of des- 
tination, she was boarded and carried by twe galleys of one hun- 
dred men each. At this moment she exploded. The effect was 
awful. Every battery was silent, and not a gun was fired afler- 
ward during the night. Captain Somers is said to have declared 



446 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 

to a frieod, that in case he should be boarded he would not suffer 
the enemy to capture him. There is every reason to believe that, 
on the enemy proving successful, the captain seized a quick match 
and touched a train, which communicated instant fire to the mine, 
by which he and his companions found, with the enemy, a com- 
mon death. 

"Nothing occurred after this, till the two squadrons joined on 
the 9th of September. Here ended Mr. Preble's command, so 
honorable to himself, and, in both its immediate and distant con- 
sequences, important to his country. All joined in the suffrage 
to the distinguished merits of the commodore. His holiness, the 
Pope, is said to have remarked, that he had done more toward 
humbling the anti-christian barbarians on that coast, than all the 
christian states had ever done. Sir Alexander Ball, in a letter of 
September 20tb, said, 'I beg to repeat my congratulation on the 
service you have rendered your country, and the hair-breadth 
escapes you have had in setting a distinguished example. Their 
bravery and enterprise are worthy a great and rising nation. If 
I were to offer my opinion, it would be, that you have done weli 
not to purchase a peace with the enemy. A few brave men have 
indeed been sacrificed; but they could not have fallen in a better 
cause; and I even conceive it advisable to risk more lives, rather 
than submit to terms which might encourage the Barbary states 
to add fresh demands and insults.' 

"In the latter part of the year 1806, the health of Mr. Preble 
began to decline. Finding that the inveteracy of his malady bid 
defiance to medical skill, he resolved on a water excursion as a 
last experiment; but it resulted in no beneficial effect. He died 
on Tuesday the 25th of August, 1807, in the 46th year of his 
age. On the day of his funeral, business was suspended, the 
colors were displayed at half-mast from the shipping in the harbor, 
and he was interred with military honors, and the ceremonies of 
religion." — Rogers'' American Biography. 



THOMAS TRUXTUN, 

Commodore in the American Navy. 
"The father of captain Truxtun was an eminent counsellor of 
the bar, in the then colony of New- York, and resided on Loiig or 



THOMAS TRUXTUN. 449 

Nassau Island, where the commodore was born on the 17th Feb- 
ruary, 1755. Having lost his father at an early age, he was placed 
under the care of John Troup, Esq. of Jamaica, Long Island; a 
gentleman well known in the annals of the war between France 
and England preceding the American revolution. The sea was 
his favorite element. At twelve years of age he embarked in his 
naval career, under captain Joseph Holmes, in the ship Pitt, bound 
for Bristol, England. The next year he sailed under a captain 
Chambers, in the London trade. While yet in his novitiate, he 
was impressed on board of an English ship of war of sixty-four 
guns; from which ship he was afterwards released, through the 
influence of some friends in power. The commander, however, 
used every persuasion to induce him to remain in the service of 
the crown, assuring him that every exertion should be used for his 
speedy promotion, but without effect, as he immediately returned 
to the ship and service from which he had been impressed. 

"In the beginning of the revolutionary struggle, he forthwith 
embarked in the cause of the colonies, against the unjust oppres- 
sion of Great Britain, and early in 1776, had the command of an 
armed vessel, with which he cruised against the enemy with great 
success. The United States were much benefitted by the quan- 
tities of powder found on board his prizes, of which article they 
were greatly in want. Toward the close of the same year, when 
on a voyage to St. Eustatia, a Dutch island in the West Indies, in 
a letter of marque, of which he was half owner, he was captured, 
his vessel condemned, and himself released. His next cruise was 
in the capacity of first lieutenant of the private armed ship Con- 
gress. During the early part of the winter of 1776, this vessel, 
in company with another private armed vessel called the Chance, 
made several prizes oflf the Havanna, which were very valuable 
home-bound Jamaica ships. In June of the same year, while the 
harbor of New-York was blockaded by the British fleet, he made 
his way to sea, through the Long Island Sound, in a vessel called 
the Independence. Oflf the Azores, he made several prizes, of 
which three were large and valuable ships, forming a part of the 
Windward Island fleet, under convoy. One of these prizes carried 
more men and guns than his vessel : the proud Englishmen, not- 
withstanding their vaunted natural prowess, were obliged to strike 

39 



450 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 

their colors to an inferior force. Truxtun next directed his Course 
f.0 the British channel, in the ship Mars, of twenty guns, where 
he made a number of prizes, several of which he sent into Quib- 
eron bay, in France. Truxtun, after this cruise, domiciliated 
himself in Philadelphia, from which port he sailed during the re- 
mainder of the war, commanding vessels, of which he was usually 
part owner. His cruises Avere generally successful. 

"When commanding the St. James, of twenty guns and one 
hundred men, on a voyage to France with Thomas Barclay, Esq. 
the consul-general from the revolted colonies to that country, a 
passenger onboard, he fell in with a British private ship of war, 
mounting thirty -two guns, and a proportionate number of men, con- 
sequently nearly double his force. After a severe and close en- 
gagement, the enemy was obliged to sheer off, and was afterward 
towed into New-York in a very crippled state. The late Secreta- 
ry of the navy, William Jones, Esq. acted as captain Truxtim's 
third lieutenant, and conducted himself during the whole engage- 
ment, with .such distinguished bravery, that he was shortly alter 
promoted to a first lieutenancy. In this vessel Truxtun returned 
safe to Philadelphia with a most valuable cargo. He used every 
means in his power to harass the enemy on the ocean during every 
period of the war, and constantly evinced the most consummate 
skill and undaunted courage; and his exertions were almost uni- 
versally crowned with complete success. He likewise, in two 
instances, distinguished himself on land. 

"On the return of peace, he continued his professional pursuits 
between tJiis country, Europe and Asia, until 1794, when the low- 
ering appearance of our affairs with Great Britain, in consequence 
of the conduct of her naval commanders, under the celebrated 
Corn Order of Council, in 1793, induced the establishment of a 
navy, which they could then do, without infracting the treaty of 
peace, which prohibited them from such an attempt for twelve 
years. The term of prohibition had just expired. General Wash- 
ington, then i)resident, by advice and consent of the senate, ap- 
pointed him captain of one of the six ships of war which had been 
M-dered to be built. But the building of these vessels was sus- 
.pendedin consequence of the treaty of 1795. On the abrogation 
;Qf.the consular convention with France,, in the year 1798, during 



THOMAS TRUXTUN. 451 

the administration of Mr. John Adams, captain Truxtun was di- 
rected to superintend the building of the frigate Constellation, at 
Baltimore, of which he was appointed commander. This vessel 
was one of the first which put to sea in consequence of the hos- 
tile attitude assumed by the United States towards the French Re- 
public. His orders were to cruise in the West India seas for the 
protection of American property. The 9th of February, 1799, 
he fell in with the French frigate L'Insurgente, captain Barreau, 
off the island of St. Nevis. With this vessel he commenced a se- 
vere engagement, which lasted for an hour and a quarter, when 
the Frenchman struck ; but not until his ship had become a mere 
wreck. The Constellation, mounting thirty -six guns, and a pro- 
portionate crew, lost, in this engagement, only one man killed and 
two wounded, while the loss on board the Insurgente, mounting 
forty -four guns, with four hundred and seventy men, was twenty 
killed and forty -four wounded. With his prize he put into Bassa 
Terre, St. Christopher's, where he refitted and returned to Amer- 
ica. This was the first action which had taken place since the 
commencement of the disturbance between the United States and 
France. The fame of the achievement was blazoned abroad, 
both in Europe and America, and produced the commodore the 
most flattering marks of distinction. The merchants at Lloyd's 
coffee-house, London, sent him a present of a service of silver 
plate, with a suitable device, valued at upwards of six hundred 
guineas. The captive commander, in a letter to the commodore, 
while he lamented the unhappy posture of affairs between the 
two countries, e-xpressed himself as being well pleased that the 
chance of war had thrown him into such gallant and brave hands, 
and thanked the commodore for his generous conduct towards him- 
self and his crew. 

"During his cruise he captured many private armed and other 
vessels, and completely cleared those seas of the French cruisers, 
by which so many depredations had been committed on the Amer- 
ican and English commerce in that quarter. 

"While our other vessels of war were busily engaged in con- 
voying the American commerce, the commodore (a title acquired 
by courtesy, as the laws of the United States know of no such offi- 
cer) heard in January, 1800, that the French ship of war La Ven- 



452 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 

geance, mounting fifty-four guns, with a complement of five hun- 
dred men, was lying at Gaudaloupe with troops and several gen- 
eral officers on board, intending to put to sea. He immediately 
changed his cruising ground, and endeavored to fail in with her^ 
and if possible, to bring her to action. The superiority of her 
force was, in a great measure, counterbalanced by a complement 
of too many men, and a number of troops. 

"On the first of February, his wishes were gratified, as he des- 
cried her on the morning of that day, and after twelve hours chase 
brought her to action. In consequence of having too many troops, 
and a great number of oflScers on board, the French commander 
was unwilling to risk a combat, but the intentions of his gallant 
antagonist were very different. An engagement took place, and 
after a close action of nearly five hours, the Frenchman was si- 
lenced. During a squall, while the Americans were busily en- 
gaged in clearing their ship, the French captain effected his es- 
cape. 

"This he was enabled to do by the darkness of the night, al- 
though, prior to this circumstance, he had struck his colors, as he 
afterward acknowledged, but was induced to renew the contest, 
believing it to be the intention of his antagonist to sink him. The 
Vengeance now arrived at Curacoa in a very shattered condition? 
having lost in the engagement one hundred killed and wounded, 
and all her masts and rigging nearly shot away. Congress, on 
this occasion, voted Truxtun an emblematic medal, for his gallan- 
try and good conduct. 

"After Mr. Jefferson entered on the duties of the presidential 
office, the commodore was ordered to the Mediterranean. From 
some cause or other he declined the service, and his resignation 
was accepted, and another officer succeeded him. Considering 
his resignation as temporary, he some time afterward wished to 
resume his naval command, but was informed, that as his resigna- 
tion had been final, his wishes could not be gratified. He retired 
to Philadelphia to enjoy the pleasing scenes of domestic life, until 
1816, when the citizens of the city and county of Philadelphia 
evinced their respect for his various services, by electing him to 
fill the important office of sherifl', the duties of which he discharged 
with general satisfaction ."-s».i4wi€rica« Biographical Dictionary. 



PART IV. 

BIOGRAPHY OF EMINENT AMERICAN STATESMEN 
OF THE REVOLUTION. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

Benjamin Franklin, was born at Boston, on the 17th of Jan- 
uary, 1706. His ancestors were from the county of Northampton, 
in England, where they had for many generations possessed a 
freehold estate, near the village of Eaton. During the persecu- 
tions in the reign of Charles IL against the puritans, the father of 
Benjamin, who was of the persuasion, emigrated to America, and 
settling in Boston, had recourse for a livelihood to the business of 
a chandler and soap boiler. His mother's name was Folger. She 
was a native of Boston, and belonged to a respectable family. 

At an early age young Franklin discovered, as his parents 
thought, a more than ordinary genius ; and they resolved to give 
him an education, with reference to the profession of a clergyman. 
Accordingly he was placed at a grammar school, where he soon 
attained the reputation of a lad of industrious habits, and respect- 
able genius. 

His parents, however, at the expiration of a year, found that 
their slender revenues would not admit of the expense of col- 
legiate instruction. He was, therefore, soon after taken home to 
prosecute the business of his father. In this occupation he was 
employed for two years, but it was ill adapted to his constitution, 
and he felt unwilling to continue cutting wicks for candles, filling 
moulds, and running of errands. He became uneasy, and at 
length resolved to embark on a seafaring life. To such a propo- 
sition, however, his parents strongly objected, as they had already 
lost a son at sea. He was permitted, however, to change his busi- 
ness, and allowed to choose an occupation which was more conge- 
nial to his inclinations. 

His fondness for books had, from an early age, been singularly 
great. He read every thing within his rQp.ch. His father's library 
was itself scanty, being confined to a few such works as Defoe's 
39* 



454 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

Essay upon Projects, Mather's Essay on Doing Good, and the lives 
of Plutarch. These he perused with great attention, and they ap- 
pear to have exercised a favorable influence on his mind. His 
love of books was frequently noticed by his father, who, at length, 
proposed to bind him as an apprentice to an elder brother, who 
was at that time a printer of a newspaper in Boston. He was ac- 
cordingly thus situated, in the year 1717, when he was scarcely 
twelve years of age. He soon became a proficient in the mechan- 
ical part of the business, and seized every opportunity for reading 
books that he could borrow from his acquaintances, in which em- 
ployment he spent the greater part of his nights. He soon began 
to indulge himself in writing ballads and other poetical pieces ; but* 
it is said, that his father speedily satisfied him that this was not the 
species of composition in which he could excel. His next eftbrts 
were directed to prose compositions, in which his success is well 
known and duly appreciated. With a passion for reading and 
writing, he imbibed a kindred one for disputation; and adopting 
the Socratic method, he became dexterous in confusing and con- 
founding an antagonist, by a series of questions. This course 
gave him a sceptical turn with regard to religion, and while he 
was young he took every opportunity of propagating his tenets, 
and with the ordinary zeal of a new convert. He was, however^ 
soon convinced, by the effect produced on some of his companions, 
that it was extremely dangerous to loosen the ties of religion, with- 
out the probability of substituting other principles, equally effica- 
cious. The doubts which subsisted in his own mind, he was never 
able to remove; but he was not deficient in fortifying himself with 
such moral principles as directed him to the most valuable ends, by 
honorable means. By habits of self-denial, early formed, he ob- 
tained a complete dominion over his appetite, so that at the age of 
sixteen, he readily discarded animal food, from the conviction pro- 
duced in his mind by perusing a work on the subject, that he should 
enjoy a more vigorous state of health without it. He now offered 
his brother to maintain himself, for half the sum paid for his board ; 
and even v.iththis he was able to make savings to purchase what 
books he wanted. In his brother he found a harsh master, and 
Benjamin felt indignant at the treatment which he experienced 
firora him in tho way of business. His brother had established a 



BENJAMIN FKANKLIA-. 4 55 

newspaper, in which the apprentice contrived to insert some papers 
and essays anonymously. These were read and highly commen- 
ded by the people of the best judgment and taste in the town, — 
The young man now began to feel his importance, which was still 
more impressed on him by having the paper established in his own 
name, that of his brother, for some political offence, having been 
interdicted by the state. 

On the release of his brother, who had for some time been im- 
prisoned for the above political offence, Franklin was treated by 
him with so much severity, that at length he determined to leave 
him. His indentures having before this been cancelled, he secretly 
went on board of a vessel, bound to New-York, in which he took 
passage for that city. After a few days spent in New-York, hav- 
ing sought in vain to procure business, he proceeded on foot to 
Philadelphia, where he at length arrived, fatigued and destitute of 
ail means of support. He was butseventeen years of age, at the 
distance of four hundred miles from home, nearly pennyless, with- 
out employment, without a counsellor, and unacquainted with a 
single person in the city. 

The day following his arrival, he wandered through the streets 
of Philadelphia, with an appearance little short of a beggar. — 
His pockets were distended by his clothes, M'hich were crowded 
into them ; and provided with a roll of bread under each arm, he 
proceeded through the principal streets in the city. His uncouth 
appearance attracted the notice of several of the citizens, and 
among others of a Miss Reed, vvho afterwards became his wife, 
and by whom, as he passed along, he was thought to present a 
very awkward and ridiculous appearance. 

There were at this time but two printing offices in Philadelphia. 
Fortunately, in one of these he found employment as a composi- 
tor. His conduct was very becoming ; he was attentive to business, 
and economical in his expenses. His fidelity not only commended 
him to his master, but was noticed by several respectable citizens, 
who promised him their patronage and support. 

Among others who took much notice of him, was Sir William 
Keith, at that time governor of the province. The governor hav- 
ing become acquainted with the history of his recent adventures, 
professed a deep interest in his wellfare, and at length proposed 



456 BENJAMIN FKANKLIN. 

that he should commence business on his own account; at the 
same time promising to aid him with his influence and that of his 
friends, and to give him the printing of the government. Moreover, 
the governor urged him to return to Boston, to soUcit the assist- 
ance and concurrence of his father. At the same time, he gave 
him a letter to that gentleman, replete with assurances of affection, 
and promises of support to the son. 

With this object in view, he sailed for Boston, and at length, ' 
after an absence of several months, he again entered his father's 
house. He was affectionately received by the family. To his 
father he communicated the letter of governor Keith, which ex- 
plained the object of his return. His father, however, judiciously 
advised him, on account of youth and inexperience, to relinquish 
the project of setting up a printing office,, and wrote to this effect 
to his patron, governor Keith. Having determined to follow the 
advice of his father, he returned to Philadelphia, and again enter- 
ing the employment of his former master, pursued his business 
with his usual assiduous attention. 

Governor Keith, on learning the advice and decision of Frank- 
lin's father, offered himself to furnish the necessary materials for 
a printing establishment, and proposed to Franklin to make a voy- 
age to England to procure them. This proposal Franklin readily 
accepted, and with gratitude to his generous benefactor, he sailed 
for England in 1725, accompanied by his friend Ralph, one of his 
literary associates in Philadelphia. 

Before his departure, he exchanged promises of fidelity with 
Miss Reed, of Philadelphia, with whose father he had lodged. 
Upon his arrival in London, Mr. Franklin found that governor 
Keith, upon whose letters of credit and recommendation he relied, 
had entirely deceived him. He was now obliged to work as a 
journeyman printer, and obtained employment in an office in Bar- 
tholomew-close. His friend Ralph did not so readily find the 
means of subsistence, and was a constant drain upon the earnings 
of Franklin . In that great city, the morals of the young travellers 
were not much improved; Ralph forgot, or acted as if he had for- 
gotten, that he had a wife and child across the Atlantic ;^ and Frank- 
lin was equally forgetful of his promises and engagements to Miss 
Reed. About this period he published, "A Dissertation on Liberty 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 457 

and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain," dedicated to Ralph, and inten- 
ded as an answer to WoUaston's "Religion of Nature." This 
piece gained for him some degree of reputation, and introduced 
him to the acquaintance of Dr. Meadville, author of the "Fable 
of the Bees," and some other literary characters. Franklin was 
always temperate and industrious, and his habits in this respect 
were eventually the means of securing his morals as well as of 
raising his fortune. In the interesting account which he has left 
of his own life, is a narrative of the method which he took in re- 
forming the sottish habits of his fellow workmen in the second 
printing office in which he was engaged in London, and which 
was situated in the neighborhood of Lincoln's-inn-fields. He tried 
to persuade them that there was more real sustenance in a penny 
roll, than in a pint of porter; at first, the plan of economy which 
he proposed was treated with contempt or ridicule ; but in the end 
he was able to induce several of them to substitute a warm and 
nourishing breakfast, in the place of stimulating liquors. 

Having resided about a year and a half in London, he concerted 
a scheme with an acquaintance, to make the tour of Europe; but 
falling in with a mercantile friend, he was induced to abandon the 
project, and enter into the service of his friend in the capacity of 
a clerk. In July, 1726, they set sail for Philadelphia, where 
they arrived on the 11th of October. 

The prospects of Franklin were now brighter. He was pleased 
with his new profession, and by his assiduous attention to busi- 
ness, gained the confidence of his employer so much, that he was 
about to be commissioned as supercargo to the West Indies, when 
of a sudden his patron died; by which his fair prospects were 
blighted, and he was once more thrown out of employment. 

He had, however, one recourse, and that was, a return to the 
business of printing, in the service of his former master. Having 
become superintendant of the printing office where he worked, 
and finding himself able to manage the concern 'with some skill 
and profit, he resolved to embark in business for himself. He 
entered into partnership with a fellow workman named Meredith, 
whose friends were enabled to furnish money for the concern. — 
His habitual industry and undeviating punctuality, obtained him 
the notice and business of the principal people of the place. 



458 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

lie instituted a club, under the name of "the Junto," for the 
purpose of the discussion of poHtical and philosophical questions, 
■which proved an excellent school for the mutual improvement of 
its several members. The test proposed to every candidate before 
his admission, was this: "Do you sincerely declare that you love 
mankind in general, of what profession or religion soever? Do 
you think any person ought to be harmed in his body, name, or 
goods, for mere speculative opinions, or his external way of wor- 
ship? Do you love truth for truth's sake; and will you endeavor 
impartially to find and receive it yourself, and comntunicate it to 
others?" 

Mr, Franklin and hi? partner ventured to set up a new public 
paper, which his own eflbrts as a writer and printer caused to 
succeed; and they obtained likewise the printing of the votes and 
laws of the general assembly. In process of time, Meredith 
withdrew fi-oni the partnership, and Franklin met with friendsy 
who enabled him to undertake the whole concern in his ova 
name, and add to it the business of a stationer. 

In 1730, he married the lady to whom he Mas engaged before 
his departure for England. During his absence he forgot his 
promises to her, and on his return to America, he found her the 
wife of another man. Although a woman of many virtues, she 
suffered from the unkindness of her husband, who, fortunately for 
her, lived but a short time. Not long after his death, Franklin 
again visited her, soon after Mhich they were married, and for 
many years lived in the full enjoyment of connubial peace and 
harmony. 

In 1732, he began to publish "Poor Richard's Almanac;" a 
work which was continued for twenty-five years, and which, be- 
sides answering the purposes of a calendar, contained many ex- 
cellent prudential maxims, which were of great utility to that class 
of the community, Avho by their poverty or laborious occupations, 
Avere deprived of the advantages of education. These maxims 
were from time to time republished both in Great Britain and on 
the continent. 

The political course of Franklin began in the year 1736, when 
he was appointed clerk to the general assembly of Pennsylvania; 
an office which he held for several years, until he was elected a 



BENJAMIN FEAXKLIN. 459 

representative. During the same year, he assisted in the estab- 
lishment of the American Philosophical Society, and of a college 
which now exists under the title of the University of Pennsylva- 
nia. In the following year he was appointed to the valuable office 
of post master of Philadelphia. In 1738, he improved the police 
' f the city, in respect to the dreadful calamity of fire, by forming 
a society called a fire company, to which was afterwards added 
an office of insurance against losses by fire. In 1742, he pub- 
lished his treatise on the improvement of chimneys, and contrived 
a stove, which is in extensive use at the present day. 

In the French war of 1744, he proposed a plan of voluntary 
association for the defence of the country. This was shonly joined 
by ten thousand persons, who were trained to the use and exercise 
of arms. Franklin was chosen colonel of the Philadelphia regi- 
ment; but he refused the honor, in favor of one whom he supposed 
to be more competent to ihe discharge of its duties. 

During the same year he was elected a member of the provm- 
cial assembly, in which body he soon became very popular, and 
■was annually re-elected by his fellow-citizens for the spacsof ten 
years. 

About this time, the attention of Mr. Franklin was particularly 
turned to philosophical subjects. In 1747, he had witnessed in 
Boston, some experiments on electricity, which excited his curiosi- 
ty, and which he repeated on his return to Philadelphia, with great 
success. These experiments led to important discoveries, an ac- 
count of which was transmitted to England, and attracted great 
attention throughout all Europe. 

In the year 1749 be conceived the idea of explaining the phe- 
nomena of thunder gusts, and of the aurora borealis, upon electri- 
cal principles ; he pointed out many particulars, in which light- 
nin'T and electricity agreed, and he adduced many facts and reas- 
onino^s in support of his propositions. In the same year, he 
thought of ascertaining the truth of his doctrine by drawing down 
the forked lightning by means of sharp pointed iron rods, raised 
into the regions of the clouds. Admitting the identity of lightning 
and electricity, and knowing the power of points in conducting 
away silently the electric fluid, he suggested the idea of securing 
houses, ships, &c, from the damages to which they were liable 



460 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

from lightning, by erecting pointed iron rods, which should rise 
some feet abbve the most elevated part, and descend some feet 
into the ground, or water. The effect of these, he concluded, 
would be either to prevent a stroke, by repelling the cloud be- 
yond the striking distance, or by drawing off the electrical fluid 
which it contained; or at least, conduct the stroke to the earth, 
without any injury to the building. It was not till the summer of 
1752, that Mr. Franklin was enabled to complete his grand exper- 
iment. The plan which he proposed was, to erect on some high 
tower, or elevated place, a sort of hut, from which should rise a 
pointed iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a cake of resin. — 
Electrified clouds passing over this, would, he conceived, impart 
to it a portion of their electricity, which might be rendered evi- 
dent to the senses by sparks being emitted, when the knuckle or 
other conductor was presented to it. While he was waiting for the 
erection of a spire, it occurred to him, that he might have more 
ready access to the region of clouds by means of a common kite ; 
he accordingly prepared one for the purpose, affixing to the upright 
stick an iron point. The string was as usual, of hemp, except 
the lower end, which was silk, and where the hempen part termi- 
nated, a key was fastened. With this simple apparatus, on the 
appearance of a thunder storm approaching, he went into the fields, 
accompanied by his son, to whom alone he communicated his in- 
tentions, dreading probably the ridicule which frequently awaits 
unsuccessful attempts in experimental philosophy. For some time 
no sign of electricity appeared ; he was beginning to despair of 
success, when he suddenly observed the loose fibres of the string 
to start forward in an erect position. He now presented his knuc- 
kle to the key, and received a strong spark. How exquisite must 
his sensations have been at this moment? On this experiment 
depended the fate of his theory ; repeated sparks were drawn from 
the key; a phial was charged, a shock given, and all the experi- 
ments made, which are usually performed with electricity. He 
immediately fixed an insulated iron rod upon his house, which 
drew down the lightning, and gave him an opportunity of exam- 
ining whether it were positive or negative, and hence he applied 
his discovery to the securing of buildings from the effects of light- 
ning. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 461 

It will be impossible to enumerate all, or even a small part of 
the experiments which were made by Dr. Franklin, or to give an 
account of the treatises which he wrote on the branches of sci- 
ence. Justice requires us to say, that he seldom wrote, or dis- 
coursed on any subject, upon which he did not throw light. Few- 
men possessed a more penetrating genius, or a happier faculty of 
discrimination. His investigations attracted the attention, and his 
discoveries called forth the admiration of the learned in all parts 
of the world. Jealousy was at length excited in Europe, and at- 
tempts were made, not only to detract from his well earned fame, 
but to rob him of the merit of originality. Others claimed the 
honor of having first made several of his most brilliant experi- 
ments, or attempted to invalidate the truth and reality of those, an 
account of which he had published to the world. The good sense 
of Dr. Franklin led him to oppose his adversaries only by silence, 
leaving the vindication of his merit to the slow, but sure operations 
of time. 

In 1753 he was raised to the important office of deputy post 
master general of America. Through ill management, this office 
had been unproductive; but soon after the appointment of Frank- 
lin, it became a source of revenue to the British crown. In this 
^station, he rendered important services to general Braddock, in his 
wild and fatal expedition against Fort Du Quesne. When, at 
length, Braddock was defeated, and the whole frontier was ex- 
posed to the incursions of the savages and the French, Franklin 
raised a company of volunteers, at the head of which he marched 
to the protection of the frontier. 

At length, in 1757, the militia was disbanded by order of the 
British government, soon after which Franklin was appointed ar- 
gent to settle the disputes which had arisen between the people of 
Pennsylvania and the proprietary government. With this object 
in view, he left his native country once more for England. On 
his arrival, he laid the subject before the privy council. The point 
in dispute was occasioned by an effort of the proprietors to ex- 
empt their private estates from taxation ; and because this exemp- 
tion was not admitted, they refused to make appropriations for the 
defence of the province, even in times of the greatest danger and 
necessity. Franklin managed the subject with great ability, and 
40 



462 BENJAMIN FRANKLI.V. 

at length brought the proprietary faction to terms. It was agreed, 
that the proprietary lands should take their share in a tax for the 
public service, provided that Franklin would engage that the as- 
sessment should be fairly proportioned. The measure was ac- 
cordingly carried into effect, and he remained at the British court 
as agent for his province. His reputation caused him also to be en- 
trusted with the like commission from Massachusetts, Maryland 
and Georgia. The molestation received by the British colonies, 
from the French in Canada, induced him to write a pamphlet, 
pointing out the advantages of a conquest of that province by the 
English; and the subsequent expedition against it, and its reten- 
tion under the British government, at the peace, were, it is be- 
lieved, much influenced by the force of his arguments on the sub- 
ject. About this period, his talents as a philosopher were duly 
appreciated in various parts of Europe. He was admitted a fel- 
low of the royal society of London, and the degree of doctor of 
laws was conferred upon him at St. Andrews, Edinburgh, and at 
Oxford. 

In 1702, he returned to America. On his arrival, the provin- 
cial assembly of Pennsylvania expressed their sense of his meri- 
torious services by a vote of thanks; and as a remuneration for 
his successful labors in their behalf, they granted him the sum of 
five thousand dollars. During his absence, he had annually been 
elected a member of the assembly, in which body he now took his 
seat. The following year he made a journey of sixteen hundred 
miles, through the northern colonies, for the purpose of inspect- 
ing and regulating the post offices. 

In 1764, he was again appointed the agent of Pennsylvania, to 
manage her concerns in England, in which country he arrived in 
the month of December. About this period the famous stamp act 
was exciting violent commotions in America. Against this meas- 
ure. Dr. Franklin strongly enlisted himself, and on his arrival in 
England, he presented a petition against it, which, at his sugges- 
tion, had been drawn up by the Pennsylvania assembly. At length 
the tumults in America became so great, that the ministry found 
it necessary either to modify the act, or to repeal it entirely. — 
Among others. Dr. Franklin was summoned before the house of 
commons, where he underwent a long examination. "No person 



BENJAMIN FRANKLI3V. 463 

was better acquainted with the circumstances and internal con- 
cerns of the colonies, the temper and disposition of the colonists 
towards the parent country, or their feehngs in relation to the late 
measures of parliament, than this gentleman. His answers to 
the numerous questions put to him in the course of this inquiry, 
not only show his extensive acquaintance with the internal state 
of the colonies, but evince his sagacity as a statesman. To the 
question, whether the Americans would submit tc^pay the stamp 
duty if the act were modified, and the duty reduced to a small a- 
mount? He answered, no, they never will submit to it. British 
statesmen were extremely desirous that the colonial assemblies 
should acknowledge the right of parliament to tax them, and re- 
scind and erase from their journals their resolutions on this subject. 
To a question, whether the American assemblies would do this, 
Dr. Franklin answered, 'they never will do it, unless compelled 
by force of arms.' " 

The \s liole of this examination, on being published, was read 
with deep interest, both in England and America. To the state- 
ments of Dr. Franklin, the repeal of the stamp act was, no doubt, 
in a great measure, attributable. 

In the years 1766 and 1707, he made an excursion to Holland, 
Germany and France, where he met with a most flattering and 
distinguished reception. To the monarch of the latter country 
Louis XV. he was introduced, and also to other members of the 
royal family, by whom, as well as by the nobility and gentry at 
court, he was treated with great hospitality and courtesy. About 
this time, he was elected a member of the French academy of 
sciences, and received diplomas from several other literary socie- 
ties in England and on the continent. 

Allusion has already been made, in our introduction, to the dis- 
covery and publication, in 1772, of certain letters of governor 
Hutchinson, addressed by that gentleman to his friends in Eng- 
land, and which reflected in the severest manner upon the people 
of America. These letters had fallen into the hands of Dr. Frank- 
lin, and by him had been transmitted to America, where they 
were at length inserted in the public journals. For a time, no 
one in England knew through what channel the letters had been 
conveyed to America. In 1773, Franklin publicly avowed him- 



464 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

self to be the person who obtained the letters and transmitted them 
to America. This occasioned a violent clamor against him, and 
upon his attending before the privy council, in the following Janu- 
ary, to present a petition from the colony of Massachusetts, for the 
dismission of Mr. Hutchinson, a most violent invective was pro- 
nounced against him, by Mr. Weddeburne, afterwards loitl Lough- 
borough. Among other abusive epithets, the honorable member 
called Franklin a coward, a murderer, and a thief. During the 
whole of this torrent of abuse, Franklin sat with a composed and 
unaverted aspect, or to use his own expression, in relation to him- 
self on another occasion, "as if his countenance had been made 
of wood." During this personal and public insult, the whole as- 
sembly appeared greatly amused, at the expense of Dr. Franklin. 
The president even laughed aloud. There was a single person 
present, however, lord North, who, to his honor be it recorded, ex- 
pressed great disapprobation of the indecent conduct of the as- 
sembly. The intended insult, however, was entirely lost. The 
dignity and composure of Franklin caused a sad disappointment 
among his enemies, who were reluctantly compelled to acknowl- 
edge the superiority of his character. Their animosity, however, 
was not to be appeased, but by doinij Franklin the greatest injury 
within their power. They removed him from the office of deputy 
post master general, interrupted the payment of his salary as a- 
gent for the colonies, and finally instituted against him a suit in 
chancery concerning the letters of Hutchinson. 

At length, finding all his eflforts to restore harmony between 
Great Britain and the colonies useless; and perceiving that the 
controversy had reached a crisis, when his presence in England 
was no longer necessary, and his continuance personally hazard- 
ous, he embarked for America, where he arrived in 1775, just af- 
ter the commencement of hostilities. He was received with every 
mark of esteem and affection. He was immediately elected a del- 
egate to the general congress, in which body he did as much, per- 
haps, as any other man, to accomplish the independence of his 
country. 

In 1776, he was deputed by congress to proceed to Canada, to 
negotiate with the people of that country, and to persuade them, 
if possible, to throw off" the British yoke; but the inhabitants of 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 465 

Canada had been so much disgusted with the zeal of the people of 
New-England, who had burnt some of their chapels, that they re- 
fused to listen to the proposals made to them by Dr. Franklin and 
his associates. On the arrival of lord Howe in America in 1776, 
he entered upon a correspondence with him on the subject of re- 
conciliation. He was afterwards appointed with two others, to 
wait upon the English commissioners, and learn the extent of their 
powers ; but as these only went to the granting of pardon upon 
submission, he joined his colleagues in considering them as insuffi- 
cient. Dr. Franklin w^as decidedly in favor of a declaration of 
independence; and was appointed president of the convention as- 
sembled for the purpose of establishing a new government for the 
state of Pennsylvania. When it was determined by congress to 
open a public negotiation with France, he was commissioned to 
visit that country, with which he negotiated the treaty of alliance, 
offensive and defensive, which produced an . immediate war be- 
tween England and France. Dr. Franklin was one of the com- 
missioners who, on the part of the United States,, signed the pro- 
visional articles of peace in 1782, and the definitive treaty in the 
following year. Before he left Europe, he concluded a treatV/''^^" 
Sweden and Prussia. By the latter he obtained several^ "' ^'"' 
eral and humane stipulations in favor of the freedom of" "^i^erce, 
and the security of private property during war, i' '^^^^^^'^ity to 
those principles which he had ever maintained Z"^^^*^^^ subjects. 
Having seen the accomplishment of his w^ ^^ ^'^^ indepen- 
dence of his country, he requested to b^'^^^^'^^' ^"'^ ^^t^^' '^- 
peated solicitations, Mr. Jefferson wa/^"^'"'^^ '"^ ^'' '^^^^•- 
On the arHval of his successor, he^ ^^"'"'^ ^"^ ^^^'^ ^^ ^^^^^' 
and crossing the English channeJ^^"'^ ^' ^"^^P°^' ^^ '^^ ^^'^ «^ 
Wight, whence, after a favor/P'^'^'Se, he arrived safe at Phil- 

adelphia, in September, IJ/' 

rp. r 1 • . >^vas received with great joy by the cit- 

1 he news of his arrj^, , , ^ j j j ^^^^ 

.'jQ flocked from all parts to see him, and 
izens. A vast muh^ „ l ,. , T 

amidst the rinaip^ ^^"'' *^^ ^'^^harge of artillery, and the ac- 
%sands, conducted him in triumph to his own 
, Ti/ ^^^^ hewas visited by the members of congress 

, . ymcipal inhabitants of Philadelphia. From numerous 
lis and assemblies, he received the most aflectionate ad- 
10* 



4G6 BENJAMIN FRAXKLIIV. 

dresses. All testified their joy at his return, and their veneration 
of his exalted character. 

This was a period in his life, of which he often spoke with pe- 
culiar pleasure. "I am now," said he, "in the bosom of my fam- 
ily, and find four new little prattlers, who cling about the knees 
of their grandpapa, and afford me great pleasure. I am surround- 
ed by my friends, and have an affectionate good daughter and son- 
in-law to take care of me. I have got into my niche, a very good 
house which I built twenty-four years ago, and out of which I 
have been ever since kept by foreign employments." 

He was not long permitted to enjoy the domestic tranquility in 
which he now found himself, being appointed president of the 
commonwealth of Pennsylvania; an office which he held for three 
years, and the duties of which he discharged very acceptably to 
his constituents. Of the federal convention of 1787, for organ- 
izing the constitution of the United States, he was elected a dele- 
gate; and in the intricate discussions which arose on that instru- 
ment, he bore a distinguished part. 

\Iu 1788 he withdrew from -public life, his great age rendering 
rev.^gjjt desirable, and the infirmities of his body unfitting him 
for thv|,^,j.je„g of p^,]3|ip Qfj'^pg^ Q^ ^j^g l^jlj of April, 17D0, m 
the eigni..fQ^jj.t|^ y^g^j. of his age, he expired in the city of Phila- 
delphia, ariu..gj, ii^terred on the 21st. Congress directed a general 
mourning for i.^^ throughout the United States, for the space of a 
month. The nt. ^^^j assembly of France, testified their sense 
of the loss which the .^^j^ sustained, bv decreeing that each mem- 
ber should wear moun. ^ ^^^ ^j^^.^^ ^^^.^ ^^^^ ^^,^^ ^^ j^^^^^,. 
perhaps never before pai.. ^j^^ ^^^.^^^j assembly of one coun- 
try to a citizen of another. p^^^yj,^ ^^3 Juried in the north- 
west corner of Christ Church y.'^ . ^ J 1 !• T \¥^.,-\i 

, in Philadelphia. In his will 
he directed that no monumental ori. , , , , , , , 

, , , , ^ents should be placed upon 
his tomb. A small marble slab only, . „ 1 .1 ^ ^ 

, - , , , "ef ore, and that too, on a 

level with the surface of the earth, bear.. . „ , . , „ 

- , . , , , the name of himseit 

and wife, and the vear ot his death, marks . ^ • ^ j 

' . " spot in the yard 

where he lies. 

Dr. Franklin had two children, a son and a daughu m, 

■= , The son, 

under the British government, was appointed governoi ^ -^ 
Jersey. On the occurrence of the revolution, he lefl An. • 



BENJAMIN FRA>'KLI\. 467 

and took up his residence in England, wiiere he spent the remain- 
der of his life. The daughter was respectably married in Phila- 
delphia, to Mr. William Bache, -vvhose descendants still reside in 
that city. 

In stature, Dr. Franklin was above the middle size. He pos- 
sessed a healthy constitution, and was remarkable for his strength 
and activity. His countenance indicated a serene state of mind, 
great depth of thought, and an inflexible resolution. 

In his intercourse with mankind, he was uncommonly agreeable. 
In conversation, he abounded in curious and interesting anecdote. 
A vein of good humor marked his conversation, and strongly re- 
commended him to both old and young, to the learned and illiterate. 
As a philosopher, he justly ranks high. In his speculations, he 
seldom lost sight of common sense, or yielded up his understand- 
ing either to enthusiasm or authority. He contributed, in no 
small degree, to the extension of science, and to the improvement 
of the condition of mankind. He appears to have entertained, 
at some periods of his life, opinions which were in many respects 
peculiar, and which probably were not founded upon a sound phil- 
osophy. The following experiment, which he made some years 
after his father's death, and after an absence of several years, to 
ascertain whether his mother would know him, will be thought at 
least curious and interesting. It was his conjecture, if not a well 
settled opinion, that a mother might, by a kind of instinct or natu- 
ral affection, recognize her children, even although she had lost 
the recollection of their particular features. It was on a visit to 
his native town of Boston, after an absence of many years, that 
this curious incident occurred. 

"To discover the existence of this instinct by actual experiment," 
says an unknown writer, to whom we are indebted for the story, 
and upon whose responsibility we give it to our readers, "the doctor 
resolved to introduce himself as a stranger to his mother, and to 
watch narrowly for the moment in which she should discover her 
son, and then to determine, with the cool precision of the philoso- 
pher, whether that discovery was the effect of that instinct of affec- 
tion, that intuitive love, that innate attachment, which is conjec- 
tured to cement relatives of the same blood; and which, by accord- 
ing the passions of parent and child, like a well tuned viol, would, 



46S BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

at the first touch, cause them to vibrate in unison, and at once 
evince that they were different chords of the same instrument. 

"On a sullen, chilly day, in the month of January, in the after- 
noon, the doctor knocked at his mother's door, and asked to speak 
with Mrs. Franklin. He found the old lady knitting before the par- 
lor fire. He introduced himself, and observing, that he under- 
stood she entertained travellers, requested a night's lodging. She 
eyed him with that cold look of disapprobation which most people 
assume, when they imagine themselves insulted, by being sup- 
posed to exercise an employment but one degree below their real 
occupation in life — assured him that he had been misinformed; that 
she did not keep tavern; but that it was true, to oblige some mem- 
bers of the legislature, she took a number of them into her family 
during the session ; that she had four jnerabers of the council, and 
six of the house of representatives, who then boarded with her; 
that all her beds were full ; and then betook herself to her knitting, 
with that intense application, which expressed, as forcibly as action 
could do, if you have concluded your business, the sooner you 
leave the house the better. But upon the doctor wrapping his 
coat around him, affecting to shiver with cold, and observing that 
it was very chilly weather, she pointed to a chair, and gave him 
leave to warm himself. 

"The entrance of her boarders precluded all further conversa- 
tion; coffee was soon served, and the doctor partook with the fam- 
ily. To the coffee, according to the good old custom of the times, 
succeeded a plate of pippins, pipes, and a paper of M'Intire's best 
when the whole family formed a cheerful smoking semi-circle be- 
fore the fire. Perhaps no man ever possessed colloquial powers to 
a more fascinating degree than Dr. Franklin, and never was there 
an occasion when he displayed those powers to greater advantage, 
than at this time. He drew the attention of the company, by the 
solidity of his modest remarks, instructing them by the varied, new, 
and striking lights in which he placed his subjects, and delighted 
them with apt and amusing anecdotes. Thus employed, the hours 
passed merrily along, until eight o'clock, when, punctual to a mc- 
ment, Mrs. Franklin announced supper. Busied with her house- 
hold affairs, she fancied the intruding stranger had quitted the 
house immediately after coffee, and it was with difficulty she could 



I 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 469 

restrain her resentment, when she saw him, without invitation, 
seat himself at the table with the freedom of a member of the 
family. 

-'Immediately after supper she called an elderly gentleman, a 
member of council, in whom she was accustomed to confide, to an- 
other room; complained bitterly of the rudeness of the stranger; 
told the manner of his introduction to her house ; observed that he 
appeared like an outlandish man; and she thought had somethin"- 
very suspicious in his appearance; concluding by solicitino- her 
friend's advice with respect to the way in which she could most 
easily rid herself of his presence. The old gentleman assured her, 
that the stranger was certainly a young man of education, and to 
all appearance a gentleman ; that, perhaps, being in agreeable 
company, he had paid no attention to the lateness of the hour; and 
advised her to call him aside, and repeat her inability to lodge 
him. She accordingly sent her maid to him, and then, with as 
much temper as she could command, recapitulated the situation of 
her family, observed that it grew late, and mildly intimated that he- 
would do well to seek himself a lodging. The doctor replied, that 
iie would by no means incommode her family ; but that, with her 
leave, he would smoke one pipe more with her boarders, and then 
retire. 

"He returned to the company, filled his pipe, and with the first 
whiff his powers returned with double force. He recounted the 
hardships, he extolled the piety and policy of their ancestors. A 
gentleman present mentioned the subject of the day's debate in the 
house of representatives. A bill had been introduced to extend 
the prerogatives of the royal governor. The Dr. immediately en- 
tered upon the subject; supported the colonial rights with new and 
forcible arguments; was familiar with the names of the influential 
men in the house, when Dudley was governor; recited their 
speeches, and applauded the noble defence of the charter of rights. 

"During a discourse so appropriately interesting to the company, 
no wonder the clock struck eleven, unperceived by the delighted 
circle ; and was it wonderful that the patience of Mrs. Franklin 
grew quite exhausted ? She now entered the room, and, before the 
whole company, with much warmth, addressed the doctor; told 
him plainly, she thought herself imposed on ; observed, it was true 



470 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

she was a lone woman, but that she had friends who would protect 
her, and concluded by insisting on his leaving the house. The 
doctor made a slight apology, deliberately put on his great coat 
and hat, took polite leave of the company, and approached the 
street door, lighted by the maid, and attended by the mistress. — 
While the doctor and his companions had been enjoying them- 
selves within, a most tremendous snow storm had, without, filled 
the streets knee deep; and no sooner had tiie maid lifted the latch, 
than a roaring northeaster forced open the door, extinguished the 
light, and almost filled the entry with drifted snow and hail. As 
soon as it was re-lighted, the doctor cast a woful look towards the 
door, and thus addressed his mother:. 'My dear madam, can you 
turn me out in this dreadful storm? I am a stranger in this town, 
and shall certainly perish in the streets. You look like a charita- 
ble lady; I should'nt think you could turn a dog from your door in 
this tempestuous night.' 'Don't tell me of charity,' said the of- 
fended matron; 'charity begins at home. It is your own fault you 
tarried so long. To be plain with you, sir, I do not like your looks, 
or your conduct; and fear you have some bad designs in thus in- 
troducing yourself to my family.' 

*'The warmth of this parley had drawn the company from the 
parlor, and by their united interference, the stranger was permit- 
ted to lodge in the house ; and as no bed could be had, he consented to 
rest on an easy chair before the parlor fire. Although the boarders 
appeared to confide perfectly in the stranger's honesty, it was not 
so with Mrs. Franklin. With suspicious caution, she collected her 
silver spoons, pepper-box, and porringer, from her closet; and, af- 
ter securing her parlor door by sticking a fork over the latch, car- 
ried the plate to her chamber; charged the negro man to sleep with 
his clothes on, to take the great lever to bed with him, and to waken 
and seize the vagrant at the first noise he made, in attempting to 
plunder the house. Having thus taken every precaution, she re- 
tired to her bed with her maid, whom she compelled to sleep in her 
room. 

"Mrs. Franklin rose before the sun, roused her domestics, un- 
fastened the parlor door with timid caution, and was agreeably 
surprised to find her guest sleeping on his own chair. A sudden 
transition from extreme distrust to perfect confidence, was natural . 



EE>'JAr.U>' FRANKLIN, 471 

She awakened him with a cheerful good morning; inquired liow 
he rested j invited him to partake of her breakfast, which was always 
served previous to that of her boarders. 'And pray, sir,' said the 
lady, as she sipped her chocolate, 'as you appear to be a stranger 
here, to what distant country do you belong?' 'I, madam, belong 
to the city of Philadelphia.'' At the mention of Philadelphia, the 
doctor declared he, for the first time, perceived some emotion m 
her. ^Philadelphia,'' said she, and all the mother suffused her 
eye: 'if you live in Philadelphia, perhaps you know our Ben.' 
'Who madam?' 'Why Ben Franklin — my Ben— Oh! he is the 
dearest child that ever blessed a mother !' 'What,' said the doctor, 
'is Ben Franklin, the printer, your son ; why he is my most inti- 
mate friend : he and I lodged in the same room.' 'Oh ! God forgive 
me,' exclaimed the old lady, raising her watery eyes to heaven — 
'and have I suffered a friend of my Benny to sleep in this hard 
chair, while I myself rested on a good bed?' 

"How the doctor discovered himself to his mother, he has not 
informed us; but from the above experiment he was fully con- 
vinced, and was often afterwards heard to declare, that natural 
affection did not exist.", 

Few men have exhibited a more worthy conduct, than did Dr, 
Franklin, through his long life. Through every vicissitude of 
fortune, he seems to have been distinguished for sobriety and 
temperance ; for his extraordinary perseverance and resolution. — 
He was not less distinguished for his veracity, for the constancy 
of his friendship, for his candor, and his fidelity to his moral and 
civil obligations. In the early part of his life, he acknowledged 
himself to have been sceptical in religion; but he became in ma- 
turer years, according to the testimony of his intimate friend. Dr. 
William Smith, a believer in divine revelation. The following 
extract from his memoirs, written by himself, deserves to be re- 
corded: "And here let me with all humility acknowledge, that to 
Divine Providence I am indebted for the felicity I have hitherto 
enjoyed. It is that power alone which has furnished me with the 
means I have employed, and that has crowned them with success. 
My faith in this respect leads me to hope, though I cannot count 
upon it, that the divine goodness will still be exercised toward 
me, either by prolonging the duration of my happiness to the close 



472 JOHN ADAMS. 

of life, or giving me fortitude to support any melancholy reverse 
which may happen to me as well as to many others. My future 
fortune is unknown but to Him, in whose hand is our destiny, and 
who can make our very afflictions subservient to our benefit." 

We conclude our notice of this distinguished man and profound 
philosopher, by subjoining the following epitaph, which was writ- 
ten by himself many years previous to his death : "The body of 
Bexjamin Fraxklin, printer, like the cover of an old book, its 
contents torn out, and stripped of its lettering and gilding, lies 
here, food for worms ; yet the work itself shall not be lost, for it 
will (as he believed) appear once more, in a new and beautiful 
edition, corrected and amended by the Author." 



JOHN ADAMS. 
John Adams was born at Quincy, then part of the ancient town 
of Braintree, on the 19th day of October, old syle, 1735. He was 
a descendant of the Puritans, his ancestors having early emigrated 
from England, and settled in Massachusetts. Discovering early 
a strong love of reading and of knowledge, proper care was taken 
by his father to provide for his education. His youthful studies 
were prosecuted in Braintree, under a Mr. Marsh, whose fortune 
it was to instruct several children, who in manhood were destined 
to act a conspicuous part in the scenes of the revolution. 

He became a member of Harvard college, 1751, and was gra- 
duated in course in 1755. Having chosen the law for his profes- 
sion, he commenced and prosecuted his studies under the direction 
of Samuel Putnam, a barrister of eminence at Worcester. By 
him he was introduced to the celebrated Jeremy Gridley, attorney- 
general of the province of Massachusetts Bay. At the first inter- 
view they became friends. Gridley at once proposed Mr. Adams 
for admission to the bar of Suffolk, and took him into special favor. 
Soon after his admission, Mr. Gridley led his young friend, with 
an air of secrecy, into a private chamber, and pointing to a book- 
case, said, "Sir, there is the secret of my eminence, and of which 
you may avail yourself as you please." It was a pretty good col- 
lection of treatises of the civil law. In this place Mr. Adams 
spent his days and nights, until he had made himself master of 
the principles of the code. 



JOHN ADAMS. 473 

From early life the bent of his mind was towards politics ; a 
propensity which the state of the times, if it did not create, doubt- 
less very much strengthened. While a resident at Worcester, he 
wrote a letter, dated October 12th, 1755, of which the following 
is an extract: — "Soon after the reformation, a few people came 
over into this new world for conscience sake. Perhaps this ap- 
parently trivial incident may transfer the seat of empire into A- 
merica. It looks likely to me ; for if we can remove the turbulent 
Gallicks, our people, according to the exactest computations, will 
in another century become more numerous than England itself. 
Should this be the case, since we have, I may say, all the naval 
stores of the nation in our hands, it will be easy to obtain a mas- 
tery of the seas ; and the united force of all Europe will not be 
able to subdue us. The only way to keep us from setting up for 
ourselves, is to disunite us. Be not surprised that I am turned 
politician. The whole town is immersed in politics. The interests 
of nations, and of all the dira of war, make the subject of every 
Qpnversation. I sit and hear, and after having been led through 
a maze of sage observations, I sometimes retire and lay things 
together, and form some reflections pleasing to myself. The pro- 
duce of one of these reveries you have read." 

This prognostication of independence, and of so vast an in- 
crease of numbers, and of naval force, as might defy all Europe, 
is remarkable, especially as coming from so young a man, and so 
early in the history of the country. It is more remarkable that 
its author should have lived to see fulfilled to the letter, what 
would have seemed to others, at that time, but the extravagance 
of youthful fancy. His early political feelings were thus strongly 
American; and from this ardent attachment to his native soil, he 
never departed. 

In 1757 he was admitted to the bar, and commenced business 
in Braintree. He is understood to have made his first considerable 
effort, or to have obtained his most signal "success, at Plymouth, in 
a jury trial, and a criminal cause. 

In 1765, Mr. Adams laid before the public his "Essay on the 
Canon and Feudal Law;" a work distinguished for its power and 
eloquence. The object of this work was to show, that our New- 
England ancestors, in consenting to exile themselves from their 

41 



474 JOHN ADAMS. 

native land, were actuated mainly by a desire of delivering 
themselves from the power of the hierarchy, and from the monar- 
chical, aristocratical, and political system of the other continent ; 
and to make this truth bear with effect on the politics of the times. 
Its tone is uncommonly bold and animated for that period. He 
calls on the people not only to defend, but to study and understand 
their rights and privileges; and urges earnestly the necessity of 
diffusing general knowledge. In conclusion, he exclaims — 

"Let the pulpit resound with the doctrines and sentiments of 
religious liberty. Let us hear the danger of thraldom to our con- 
sciences, from ignorance, extreme poverty and dependence; in 
short, from civil and political slavery. Let us see delineated be- 
fore us, the true map of man : let us hear the dignity of his nature, 
and the noble rank he holds among the works of God — that con- 
senting to slavery is a sacrilegious breach of trust, as offensive in 
the sight of God, as it is dei'ogatory from our own honor, or inter- 
est, or happiness ; and that God Almighty has promulgated from 
heaven, liberty, peace, and good will to man. 

"Let the &ar proclaim the laws, the rights, the generous plan of 
power delivered down from remote antiquity ; inform the world of 
the mighty struggles and the numberless sacrifices made by our 
ancestors in the defence of freedom. Let it be known that Brit- 
ish liberties are not the grants of princes or parliaments, but ori- 
ginal rights, conditions of original contracts, coequal with preroga- 
tive, and coeval with government. That many of our rights are 
inherent and essential, agreed on as maxims and. established as 
preliminaries even before a parliament existed. Let them search 
for the foundation of British laws and government in the frame of 
human nature, in the constitution of the intellectual and moral 
world. There let us see that truth, liberty, justice, and benevo- 
lence, are its everlasting basis ; and if these could be removed? 
the superstructure is overthrown of course. 

"Let the colleges join their harmony in the same delightful con- 
cert. Let every declamation turn upon the beauty of liberty and 
virtue, and the deformity, turpitude, and malignity of slavery and 
vice. Let the public disputations become researches into the 
grounds, nature, and ends of government, and the means of pre- 
serving tlie good and demolishing the evil. Let the dialogues and 



JOHN ADAMS. 475 

all the exercise become the instruments of impressing on the ten- 
der mind, and of spreading and distributing far and wide the ideas 
of right, and the sensations of freedom." 

In 1766, Mr. Adams removed his residence to Boston, still con- 
tinuing his attendance on the neighboring circuits, and not unfre- 
quently called to remote parts of the province. 

In 1770 occurred, as has already been noticed, the "Boston mas- 
sacre." Mr. Adams was solicited by the British officers and sol- 
diers to undertake their defence, on the indictment found against 
them, for their share in that tragical scene. This was a severe 
test of his professional firmness. He was well aware of the pop- 
ular indignation against these prisoners, and he was at that time 
a representative of Boston in the general court, an office which 
depended entirely upon popular favor. But he knew that it was 
due to his profession, and to himself, to undertake their defence, 
and to hazard the consequences. "The trial was well managed. 
The captain was severed in his trial from the soldiers, who were 
tried first, and their defence rested in part upon the orders, real 
or supposed, given by the officer to his men to fire. This was in 
a good measure successful. On the trial of captain Preston, no 
such oi"der to fire could be proved. The result was, as it should 
have been, an acquittal. It was a glorious thing that the counsel 
and jury had nerve sufficient to breast the torrent of public feel- 
ing. It showed Britain that she had not a mere mob to deal with, 
but resolute and determined men, who could restrain themselves. 
Such men are dangerous to arbitrary pov:er. 

The event proved, that as he judged well for his own reputa- 
tion, so he judged well for the interest and permanent fame of his 
country. The same year he was elected one of the representa- 
tives in the general assembly, an honor to which the people would 
not have called him, had he lost their confidence and aflfection. 

In the years 1773, and 1774, he was chosen a counsellor by the 
members of the general court; but was rejected by governor 
Hutchinson, in the former of these years, and by governor Gage, 
in the latter. 

In this latter year he was appointed a member of the continen- 
tal congress, from Massachusetts. "This appointment was made 
at Salem, where the general court had been convened by gover- 



476 ' JOHN ADAMS. 

nor Gage, in the last hour of the existence of a house of represen- 
tatives, under the provincial charter. While engaged in this im- 
portant business, the governor having been informed of what was 
passing, sent his secretary, with a message, dissolving the gener- 
al court. The secretary finding the door locked, directed the mes- 
senger to go in, and inform the speaker that the secretary was at 
the door, with a message from the governor. The messenger re- 
turned, and informed the secretary' that the orders of the house 
were that the doors should be kept fast; whereupon the secretary 
soon after read a proclamation, dissolving the general court, upon 
the stairs. Thus terminated, forever, the actual exercise of the 
political power of England in or over Massachusetts." 

On the meeting of congress in Philadelphia, 1774, Mr. Adams 
appeared and took his seat. To talents of the highest order, and 
the most commanding eloquence, he added an honest devotion to 
the cause of his country, and a firmness of character, for which he 
was distinguished through life. Prior to that period he had, upon 
all occasions, stood forth openly in defence of the rights of his 
country, and in opposition to the injustice and encroachments of 
Great Britain. He boldly opposed them by his advice, his actions 
and his eloquence ; and with other worthies, succeeded in spread- 
ing among the people a proper alarm for their liberties. Mr. Ad- 
ams was placed upon the first and most important committees. — 
During the first year, addresses were prepared to the king, to the 
people of England, of Ireland, Canada, and Jamaica. The name 
of Mr. Adams is found upon almost all those important commit- 
tees. His firmness and eloquence in debate, soon gave him a 
standing among the highest in that august body. 

The proceedings of this congress have already passed in re- 
view. Among the members, a vai-iety of opinions seem to have 
prevailed, as to the probable issue of the contest, in which the 
country was engaged. On this subject, Mr. Adams, a few years 
before his death, expressed himself, in a letter to a friend, as fol- 
lows : "When congress had finished their business, as they thought? 
in the autumn of 1774, I had with Mr. Henry, before we took 
leave of each other, some familiar conversation, in which I ex- 
pressed a full conviction that our resolves, declaration of rights, 
enumeration of wrongs, petitions, remonstrances, and addresses, 



JOHN ADAMS. 477 

associations, and non-importation agreements, however they might 
be viewed in America, and however necessary to cement the union 
of the colonies, would be but waste paper in England. Mr. Hen- 
ry said, they might make some impression among the people of Eng- 
land, but agreed with me, that they would be totally lost upon the 
government. I had just received a short and hasty letter, written 
to me by major Joseph Hawle}-, of Northampton, containing a 
few broken hints, as he called them, of what he thought was pro- 
per to be done, and concluding with these words, 'after all, we 
must fight.' This letter I read to Mr. Henry, who listened with 
great attention, and as soon as I had pronounced the words, 'after 
all, we must fight,' he raised his head, and, with an energy and 
vehemence that I can never forget, broke out with, 'I am of that 
man's mind.' I put the letter into his hand, and when he had read 
it he returned it to me, with an equally solemn asseveration, that 
he agreed entirely in opinion with the writer. 

"The other delegates from Virginia returned to their state in 
full confidence that all our grievances would be redressed. The 
Jast words that Mr. Richard Henry Lee said to me, when we 
parted, were, we shall infallibly carry all our points. You will be 
completely relieved, all the offensive acts will be repealed; the 
army and fleet will be recalled, and Britain will give up her fool- 
ish project." 

"Washington only was in doubt. He never spoke in public. — 
In private, he joined with those who advocated a non-exportation, 
as well as a non-importation agreement. With both, he thought 
we should prevail; without either, he thought it doubtful. Henr}' 
was clear in one opinion, Richard Henry Lee in an opposite opin- 
ion, and Washington doubted between the two. 

On the 15th day of June, the continental congress appointed 
general Washington commander-in-chief of the American armies. 
To Mr. Adams is ascribed the honor of having suggested and ad- 
vocated the choice of this illustrious man. When first suggested 
by Mr. Adams, to a few of his confidential friends in congress, 
the proposition was received with a marked disapprobation. — 
Washington, at this time was almost a stranger to them; and, be- 
sides, to elevate a man who had never held a higher military rank 
than that of colonel, over officers of the highest grade in the mi 
41* 



478 ' JOHN ADAMS. 

litia, and those too, already in the field, appeared not only irregu- 
lar, but likely to produce much dissatisfaction among them and 
the people at large. To Mr. Adams, however, the greatest ad- 
vantage appeared likely to result from the choice of Washington, 
whose character and peculiar fitness for the station he well under- 
stood. Samuel Adams, his distinguished colleague, coincided with 
him in these views, and through their instrumentality this felicit- 
ous choice was effected. When a majority in congress had been 
secured, Mr. Adams introduced the subject of appointing a com- 
mander-in-chief of the armies, and having sketched the qualifica- 
tions which should be found in the man to be elevated to so res- 
ponsible a station, he concluded by nominating George Washing- 
ton of Virginia to the office. 

To Washington, himself, nothing could have been more unex- 
pected. Until that moment he was ignorant of the intended nom- 
ination. The proposal was seconded by Samuel Adams, and the 
following day it received the unanimous approbation of congress. 
When Mr. Adams was first made a member of the continental 
congress, it was hinted that he, at that time, inclined to a separa- 
tion of the colonies from England, and the establishment of an in- 
dependent government. On his way to Philadelphia, he was 
warned, by several advisers, not to introduce a subject of so deli- 
cate a character, until the affairs of the' country should wear a 
different aspect. Whether Mr. Adams needed this admonition or 
not, will not, in this place, be determined. But in 1776, the affairs 
of the colonies, it could no longer be questioned, demanded at least 
ihe candid discussion of the subject. On the 6th of May, of that 
vear, Mr. Adams offered, in committee of the whole, a resolution 
■ hat the colonies should form governments independent of the 
crown. On the 10th. of May, this resolution was adopted, in the 
following shape : "That it be recommended to all the colonies, 
which had not already established governments suited to the exi- 
gencies of their case, to adopt such governments as would, in the 
opinion of the representatives of the people, best conduce to the 
happinf ss and safety of their constituents in particular, and Amer- 
icans in general.'" 

"This significant vote was soon followed by the direct propo- 
sition, which Richard Heney Lee, had the honor to submit to 



JOHN ADAMS. 479 

congress, by resolution, on the 7th day of June. The published 
journal does not expressly state it. but there is no doubt that this 
resolution was in the same words, when originally submitted by 
Mr. Lee, as when finally passed. Having been discussed on Sat- 
urday the 8th, and Monday the 10th of June, this resolution was, 
on the last mentioned day, postponed for further consideration to 
the first day of July ; and at the same time it was voted, that a 
committee be appointed to prepare a declaration, to the effect of 
the resolution. This committee was elected by ballot on the fol- 
lowing day, and consisted of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, 
Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Living- 
ston." 

It is usual when committees are elected by ballot, that their 
members are arranged in order, according to the number of votes 
which each has received. Mr. Jefferson, therefore, probably re- 
ceived the highest, and Mr. Adams the next highest number of 
votes. The difference is said to have been but a single vote. 

Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, standing thus at the head of the 
committee, were requested by the other members, to act as a sub- 
committee to prepare the draft; and Mr. Jefferson drew up the pa- 
per. The original draft, as brought by him from his study, and 
submitted to the other members of the committee, with interlinea- 
tions in the hand writing of Dr. Franklin, and others in that of Mr. 
Adams, was in Mr. Jefferson's possession at the time of his death. 
The merit of this paper is Mr. Jefferson's. Some changes were 
made in it, on the suggestion of other members of the committee, 
and others by congress, while it was under discussion. But none 
of them altered the tone, the frame, the arrangement, or the gen- 
eral character of the instrument. As a composition, the declara- 
tion is Mr. Jefferson's. It is the production of his mind, and the 
high honor of it belongs to him clearly and absolutely. 

"While Mr. Jefferson was the author of the declaration itself, 
Mr. Adams was its great supporter on the floor of congress. This 
was the unequivocal testimony of Mr. Jefferson. 'John Adams,' 
said he, on one occasion, 'was our Colossus on the floor; not grace- 
ful, not elegant, not always fluent in his public addresses, he yet 
came out with a power, both of thought and expression, that moved 
us from our seats;' and at another time he said, 'John Adams was 



480 JOHIf ADAMS. 

the pillar of its support on the floor of congress ; its ablest advo- 
cate and defender against the multifarious assaults, which were 
made against it.' " 

On the second day of July, the resolution of independence was 
adopted, and on the fourth, the declaration itself was unanimously 
agreed to. Language can Scarcely describe the transports of Mr. 
Adams at this time. He has best described them himself, in a let- 
ter written the day following, to his wife. "Yesterday," says he, 
"the greatest question was decided that was ever debated in Amer- 
ica; and greater, perhaps, never was or will be decided among men. 
A resolution was passed, without one dissenting colony, 'that these 
United States are, and of right ought to be, free and independent 
slates.' The day is passed. The 4th of July, 177.6, will be a 
memorable epoch in the history of America. lam apt to beheve 
it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great 
anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of 
deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It 
ought to be solemnized with pomps, shows, games, sports, guns. 
bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent to 
the other, from this time forward, for ever. You will think me 
transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of 
the toil, and blood, and treasure, that it will cost to maintain this 
declaration, and support and defend these states; yet through all 
the gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory. I can see that 
the end is worth more than all the means ; and that posterity will 
triumph, although you and I may rue, which I hope we shall not." 
About the time of the declaration of independence, occurred the 
disastrous battle of Flatbush on Long Island. The victory thus 
gained by the British, was considered by lord Howe, as a favorable 
moment for proposing to congress an accommodation ; and for 
this purpose, he requested an interview with some of the mem- 
bers. In the deliberations of congress, Mr. Adams opposed this 
proposal, on the ground that no accommodation could thus be 
eflected. 

A committee, however, was appointed to wait on lord Howe, 
consisting of himself. Dr. Franklin, and Mr. Rutledge. On being 
apprised of their intended interview, lord Howe sent one of his 
principal ofiicers as a hostage, but the commissioners taking him 



JOHN ADAMS. 481 

with them, fearlessly repaired to the British camp. On their ar- 
rival, they were conducted through an army of twenty thousand 
men, drawn up for the purpose of show and impression. But the 
display was lost on the commissioners, who studiously avoided all 
signs of wonder or anxiety. As had been predicted by Mr. Adam?, 
tlie interview terminated without any beneficial result. On being 
introduced, lord Howe informed them that he could not treat with 
them as a committee of congress, but only as private gentlemen 
of influence in the colonies ,• to which Mr. Adams replied, "you 
may view me in any light you please, sir, except that of a British 
subject." 

During the r«mainder of the year 1776, and all 1777, Mr. Adams 
was deeply engaged in the affairs of congress. He served as a 
member of nmety different committees, and was chairman of twen- 
ty-five committees. From his multiform and severe labors, he 
was relieved in December of the latter year, by the appointment 
of commissioner to France, in the place of Silas Deane. 

In February, 1778, he embarked for that country on board of 
the frigate Boston. On his arrival in France, he found that Dr. 
Franklin, and Arthur Lee, who had been appointed commission- 
ers the preceding year, and were then in France, had already 
concluded a treaty with the French government. Little business, 
therefore, of a public nature was left him to do. In the summer 
of 1779, he returned to America. 

About the time of his arrival, the people of Massachusetts were 
adopting measures foV calling a convention to form a new state 
constitution. Of this convention he was elected a .member, and 
was also a member of the committee appointed by the convention 
to report a plan for their consideration. .A pian he drew up was 
accepted, and was made the basis of the constitution of that state. 
In the August following, in consequence of an informal sugges- 
tion from the court of St. James, he received the appointment of 
minister plenipotentiary for negotiating a treaty of peace, and a 
treaty of commerce, with Great Britain. A salary of twenty-five 
hundred pounds sterling was voted him. In the month of October, 
he embarked on board the French ship La Sensible, and after a 
tedious voyage was landed at Ferrol, in Spain, w hence he proceeded 
to Paris, where he arrived in the month of February. He there 



482 JOHN ADAMS. 

communicated with Dr. Franklin, who was at that time envoy of 
the United States at the court of France, and with the count de 
Vergennes, the French prime minister. But the British govern- 
ment, it was found, were not disposed to peace, and the day seemed 
far distant when any negotiation could be opened with a hope of 
success. Mr. Adams, however, was so useful in various ways, 
that towards the close of the year, congress honored him by a vote 
of thanks, "for his industrious attention to the interest and honor 
of these United States abroad." 

In June i7S0, congress being informed that Mr. Laurens, who 
had been appointed to negotiate a loan in Holland for the United 
States, had been taken prisoner by the English, forwarded a com- 
mission to Mr. Adams, to proceed to Holland, for the above purpose. 
To this, soon after, was added the new appointment of commis- 
sioner, to conclude a treaty of amity and commerce with the 
states-general of Holland ; and at the same time, authority was given 
him to pledge the faith of the United States to the armed "neu- 
trality" proposed by the Russian government. Mr. Adams re- 
paired with promptitude to Holland, and engaged with great zeal 
in the business of his commission. 

From this station he was suddenly summoned by the count de 
Vergennes, to consult, at Paris, with regard to a project for a gen- 
eral peace, suggested by the courts of Vienna and St. Petersburgh. 
This was one of the most anxious periods in the eventful life of 
Mr. Adams. France was^ indeed, ready to fulfil her guarantee of 
independence to the United States ; but it was the politic aim of 
the count de Vergennes, to secure important advantages for his 
own country, in the settlement of American difficulties. Hence, 
no effort was spared to make Mr. Adams, in this important matter, 
the subordinate agent of the French cabinet. He, on the other 
hand, regarded solely the interests of the United States, and the 
instructions of congress ; and his obstinate independence, unshaken 
by the alternate threats and blandishments of the court of Ver- 
sailles, occasioned an effort by the count de Vergennes to obtain, 
through the French minister in Philadelphia, such a modification 
of the instructions to Mr. Adams, as should subject him to the 
direction of the French cabinet. 

The effect of this artful and strenuous measure was, a determi- 



JOHN ADAMS. 483 

nation on the part of congress, that Mr. Adams should hold the 
most confidential intercourse with the French ministers ; and should 
"undertake nothing in the negotiation of a peace, or truce, with- 
out their knowledge and concurrence." 

Under these humiliating restrictions, the independent and de- 
cisive spirit of Mr. Adams was severely tried. The imperial 
mediators proposed an armistice, but without any withdrawal of 
troops from America. Mr. Adams firmly opposed this stipulation ; 
and the negotiation proceeded no farther at that time. 

It was obviously the policy of the French minister, not to facili- 
tate the peace between Great Britain and the United States, with- 
out previously securing to France a large share in the fisheries ; 
and at the same time so establishing the western boundary, as to 
sacrifice the interests of the United States to those of Spain. 

Finding all attempts at negotiation unavailing, Mr. Adams re- 
turned to Holland. Meantime, the apprehensions of congress 
being much excited by the insinuations of the French minister in 
Philadelphia, they added to the commission for forming a treaty 
with Great Britain, Dr. Franklin, then plenipotentiary at Paris ; 
Mr. Jay, the minister at Madrid; Mr. Henry Laurens, who had 
been recently appointed special minister to France ; and Mr. Jef- 
ferson. The whole were instructed to govern themselves by the 
advice and opinion of the ministers of the king of France. This 
unaccountable and dishonorable concession, in eifect, made the 
count deVergennes minister plenipotentiary for the United States, 
But the indefatigable exertions of Mr. Adams in Holland had a 
most important beai'ing upon the proposed negotiations. By a la- 
borious and striking exhibition of the situation and resources of 
the United States, he succeeded in so influencing public opinion, 
as to obtain a loan of eight millions of guilders on reasonable 
terms. This loan, effected in the autunm of 1782, was soon fol- 
lowed by a treaty of amity and commerce with Holland, recogniz- 
ing the United States as sovereign and independent states. 

The disposition towards peace, on the part of the English min- 
istry, was wonderfully quickened by the favorable negotiation of 
this loan. During lord Shelburne's administration, the indepen- 
dence of the states was unconditionally acknowledged, and the 
first effectual steps were taken to put an end to the war. 



484 JOHN ADAMS. 

During the negotiations that followed, the disposition of France 
ao-ain evinced itself, to cut off the United States from a share of 
the fisheries, and to transfer a portion of the American territory 
to Spain. The American commissioners, therefore, were not a 
little embarrassed by their instructions from congress, to govern 
themselves by the opinion and advice of the French minister : but 
as Mr. Adams had, on a former occasion, found it necessary to 
(depart from instructions of a similar import, the other commission- 
ers now joined with him in the determination to secure the best 
interest of their country, regardless of the interference of the 
French minister, and of the inconsiderate restrictions imposed on 
them by congress. Accordingly, provisional articles were signed 
by them on the 30th of November, 1782; and this measure was 
followed by an advantageous definitive treaty, in September 1783. 
Mr. Adams spent a part of the year 1784 in Holland, but re- 
turned eventually to Paris, on being placed at the head of a com- 
mission, with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Jefierson as coadjutors, to ne- 
gotiate several commercial treaties with different foreign nations. 

Near the commencement of the year 1785, congress resolved 
to send a minister plenipotentiary to represent the United States 
at the court of St. James. To this responsible station, rendered 
peculiarly delicate by the fact that the United States had been so 
recently and reluctantly acknowledged as an independent nation, 
Mr. Adams was appointed. It was doubtful in what manner and 
with what spirit an American minister would be received by the 
British government. On leaving America, Mr. Jay, then secre- 
tary of state, among other instructions used the following language : 
"The manner of your reception at that court, and its temper, views 
and dispositions respecting American objects, are matters con- 
cerning which particular information might be no less useful than 
interesting. Your letters will, I am persuaded, remove all sus- 
pense on those points." 

In accordance with this direction, Mr. Adams subsequently 
forwarded to Mr. Jay, the following interesting account of his 
presentation to the king: — "During my first interview with the 
marquis of Carmarthen, he told me it was customary for every 
foreign minister, at his first presentation to the king, to make his 
majesty some compliments, conformable to the spirit of his credent 



JOHN ADAMS. 485 

itials; and when Sir Clement Cottrel Dormer, the master of cere- 
monies, came to inform me that he should accompany me to the 
secretary of state, and to court, he said that every foreign minister 
whom he had attended to the queen, had always made an ha- 
rangue to her majesty, and he understood, though he had not been 
present, that they always harangued the king. On Tuesday even- 
mg the baron de Lynden (Dutch ambassador) called upon me, and 
said he came from the baron de Nolkin, (Swedish envoy,) and had 
been conversing upon the singular situation I was in, and they 
agreed in opinion, that it was indispensable that I should make a 
speech, and that it should be as complimentary as possible. All 
this was parallel to the advice lately given by the count de Ver- 
gennes to Mr. Jefferson. So that, finding it was a custom estab- 
lished at both these great courts, and that this court and the foreign 
ministers expected it, I thought I could not avoid it, although my 
first thought and inclination had been, to deliver my credentials 
silently and retire. At one, on Wednesday the first of June, the 
master of ceremonies called at my house, and went with me to 
the secretary of state's office, in Cleveland Row, where the mar- 
quis of Carmarthen received me, and introduced me to Mr. Fra- 
zier, his under secretary, who had been, as his lordship said, unin- 
terruptedly in that office through all the changes in administration 
for thirty years. After a short conversation upon the subject of 
importing my effects from Holland and France, free of duty, which 
Mr. Frazier himself introduced, lord Carmarthen invited me to go 
with him in his coach to court. When we arrived in the anti- 
chamber, the master of the ceremonies met me, and attended me, 
while the secretary of state went to take the commands of the 
king. While I stood in this place, where it seems all ministers 
stand on such occasions, always attended by the master of cere- 
monies, the room very full of courtiers, as well as the next room, 
you may well suppose that I was the focus of all eyes. I was 
relieved, however, from the embarrassment of it, by the Swedish 
and Dutch ministers, who came to me and entertained me ia a 
very agreeable conversation during the whole time. Some other 
gentlemen whom I had seen before, came to make their compli- 
ments too, until the marquis of Carmarthen returned, and desired 
•me to go with him to his majesty. 



486 JOHN ADAMS. 

"I went with his lordship through the levee room into the king's 
closet; the door was shut, and I was left with his majesty and the 
secretary of state alone. I made the three reverences, one at the 
door, another about half way, and the third before the presence, 
according to the usage established at this and all the northern 
courts of Europe, and then addressed myself to his majesty in the 
following words : — Sir, the United States have appointed me their 
minister plenipotentiary to your majesty, and have directed me to 
deliver to your majesty this letter, which contains the evidence 
of it. It is in obedience to their express commands, that I have the 
honor to assure your majesty of their unanimous disposition and de- 
sire to cultivate the most friendly and liberal intercourse between 
your majesty's subjects and their citizens, and their best wishes 
for your majesty's health and happiness, and for that of your 
royal family. 

"The appointment of a minister from the United States to your 
majesty's court, will form an epoch in the history of England and 
America. I think myself more fortunate than all my fellow citi- 
zens, in having the distinguished honor to be the first to stand in 
your majesty's royal presence in a diplomatic character; and 1 
shall esteem myself the happiest of men, if I can be instrumen- 
tal in recommending my country more and more to your majesty's 
royal benevolence, and of restoring an entire esteem, confidence, 
and affection, or in better words, 'the old good nature, and the old 
good humor,' between people who, though separated by an ocean, 
and under different governments, have the same language, a sim- 
ilar religion, and kindred blood. I beg your majesty's permission 
to add, that although I have sometimes before been entrusted by 
my country, it was never, in my whole life, in a manner so agree- 
able to myself.' " 

"The king listened to every word I said, with dignity, it is true, 
but with an apparent emotion. Whether it was the nature of the 
interview, or whether it was my visible agitation, for I felt more 
than I did or could express, that touched him, I cannot say, but he 
was much affected, and answered me with more tremor than I had 
spoken with, and said : 

"Sir, the circumstances of this audience are so extraordinary, 
the language you have now held is so extremely proper, and the 



JOHN ADAMS. 487/ 

feelings you have discovered so justly adapted to the occasion, that 
I must say? that I not only receive with pleasure the assurances 
of the friendly disposition of the people of the United States, but 
that I am very glad the choice has fallen upon you to be their 
minister. I wish you, sir, to believe, and that it may be under- 
stood in America, that I have done nothing in the late contest but 
what I thought myself indispensably bound to do, by the duty 
which I owed to my people. I will be very frank with you. I 
was the last to conform to the separation ; but the separation hav- 
ing been made, and having become inevitable, I have always said, 
as I say now, that I would be the first to meet the friendship of 
the United States, as an independent power. The moment I see 
such sentiments and language as yours prevail, and a disposition 
to give this country the preference, that moment I shall say, let 
the circumstances of language, religion, and blood, have their 
natural and full effect.' 

"I dare not say that these were the king's precise words, and it 
is even possible that I may have, in some particular, mistaken his 
meaning ; for although his pronunciation is as distinct as I ever 
heard, he hesitated sometimes between his periods, and between 
the members of the same period. He was, indeed, much affected, 
and I was not less so; and, therefore, I cannot be certain that I 
was so attentive, heard so clearly, and understood so perfectly, as 
to be confident of all his words or sense ; this I do say, that the 
foregoing is his majesty's meaning, as I then understood it, and his 
own words, as nearly as I can recollect." 

The year following, 1788, Mr. Adams requested permission to 
resign his office, which, being granted, after an absence of be- 
tween eight and nine years, he returned to his native country. — 
The new government was, at the time, about going into operation. 
In the autumn of 1788, he was elected vice president of the United 
States, a situation which he filled with reputation for eight years. 
—On the retirement of general Washington from the presidency, 
in 1796, Mr. Adams was a candidate for that elevated station. — 
At this time, two parties had been formed in the United States. — 
At the head of one stood Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Adams, and at 
the head of the other stood Mr. Jefferson. After a close contest 
between these two parties, Mr. Adams was elected president, hav 



488 JOHN ADAljIS. 

ing received seventy-one of the electoral votes, and Mr. Jeffers&n 
sixt^'-eight. In March, 1797, these gentlemen entered upon their 
respective offices of president and vice president of the U. States- 
Of the administration of Mr. Adams we shall not, in this place, 
give a detailed account. Many circumstances conspired to ren- 
der it unpopular. An unhappy dispute with France had arisen a 
little previously to his inauguration. In the management of this 
dispute, which had reference to aggressions by France upon A- 
merican rights and commerce, the popularity of Mr. Adams was 
in no small degree affected, although the measures which he re- 
commended for upholding the national character, were more mod" 
erate than congress, and a respectable portion of the people, 
thought the exigencies of the case required. Other circumstan- 
ces, also, conspired to diminish his popularity. Restraints were 
imposed upon the press,, and authority vested in the president to 
order aliens to depart out of the United States^ when he should 
judge the peace and safety of the country required. To these 
measures, acts were added for raising a standing army, and impos- 
ing a direct tax and internal duties. These, and other causes, 
combined to weaken the strength of the party to whom he owed 
his elevation, and to prevent his re-election. He was succeeded 
by Mr. Jefferson, in 1801. 

On retiring from the presidency he removed to his former resi- 
dence at Quincy, where, in quiet, he spent the remainder of his 
days. In 1805, he voted as elector of president and vice presi- 
dent; and, in the same year, at the advanced age of 85, he was a 
member of the convention of Massachusetts, assembled to revise 
the constitution of that commonwealth. 

Mr. Adams retained the faculties of his mind, in remarkable 
perfection, to the end of his long life. His unabated love of read- 
ing and contemplation, added to an interesting circle of friendship 
and affection, were sources of felicity in declining years, which 
seldom fall to the lot of any one. 

"But," to use the language of a distinguished eulogist, (Web- 
ster,) "he had other enjoyments. He saw around him that pros- 
perity and general happiness, which had been the object of his 
public cares and labors. No man ever beheld more clearly, and 
for a longer time, the great and beneficial effects of the services 



JOHN ADAMS. 480 

rendered by himself to his country. That- liberty, which he so 
early defendqd, that independence of which he was so able an ad- 
vocate and supporter, he saw, we trust, firmly and securely estab- 
lished. The population of the country thickened around him fas- 
ter, and extended wider, than his own sanguine predictions had 
anticipated ; and the wealth, respectabilitj', and power of the na- 
tion, sprang up to a magnitude, which it is quite impossible he 
could have expected to witness, in his day. He lived, also, to be- 
hold those principles of civil freedom, which had been developed, 
established, and practically applied in America, attract attention, 
command respect, and awaken imitation, in other regions of the 
globe: and well might, and well did he exclaim, 'where will the 
consequences of the Anierican revolution end'.' " 

"If any thing yet remains to fill this cup of happiness, let it be 
idded, that he lived to see a great and intelligent people bestow 
the highest honor in their gift, where he had bestowed his own 
kindest parental affections, and lodged his fondest hopes. 

"At length the day approached wheji this eminent patriot was 
to be summoned to another world,- and as if to render that day 
forever memoi'able in the annals of American history, it was the 
day on which the illustrious Jefferson was himself, also to termi- 
nate his distinguished earthly career. That day was the fiftietli 
anniversary of the declaration of independence. 

'•Until within a few days previous, Mr. Adams had exhibited no 
indications of a rapid decline. The morning of the 4th of July, 
1826, he was unable to rise from his bed. Neither to himself or 
• his friends, however, was his dissolution supposed to be so near. 
He was asked to suggest a toast, appropriate to the celebration of 
the day. His mind seemed to glance back to the hour in which, 
fifty years before, he had voted for the declaration of indepen- 
dence, and whh the spirit with which he then raised his hand, he 
now exclaimed, 'Independence forever.' At. four o'clock in the 
afternoon he expired. Mr. Jefferson had departed a few hours 
before him." 

We close this imperfect sketch of the life of this distinguished 

man in the language of one (J. Q. Adams,) who, from the relation 

in which he stood to the subject of this memoir, must have felt, 

" more than any other individual, the impressiveness of the event. 

42* 



490 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

"They,(Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson,) departed cheered by the ben- 
ediction of their country, to whom they left the inheritance of their 
fame, and the memory of their bright example. If we turn our 
thoughts to the condition of their country, in the contrast of the 
first and last day of that half century, how resplendent and sub- 
lime is the transition from gloom to glory ! Then, glancing through 
the same lapse of time, in the condition of the individuals, we see 
the first day marked with the fulness and vigor of youth, in the 
pledge of their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to the 
cause of freedom and of mankind. And on the last, extended on 
the bed of death, with but sense and sensibility left to breathe a 
last aspiration to heaven of blessings upon their country; may 
we not humbly hope, that to them, too, it was a pledge of transition 
from gloom to glory ; and that while their mortal vestments were 
sinking to llie clod of the valley, their emancipated spirits were 
ascending to the bosom of their God!" 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

Tho3ias Jefferson was born in Shadwell, in Albemarle county. 
Virginia, on the second day of April, 1743, old style. 

Of the early incidents of his life, but little is known. He was 
entered, while a youth, a student in the college of William and 
Mary, in Willianisburgh : yet the precise standing which he oc- 
cupied among his literary associates, is probably now lost. He 
doubtless, however, left the college with no inconsiderable repu- 
tation. He appears to have been imbued with an early love of let- 
ters and science, and to have cherished a strong disposition to the 
physical sciences especially; and to ancient classical literature, 
he is understood to have had a warm attachment, and never to 
have lost sight of them, in the midst of the busiest occupations. 

On leaving the college, he applied himself to the study of the 
law under the tuition of George Wythe. In the office of this dis- 
tinguished man, he acquired that unrivalled neatness, system, and 
method in business, which through all his future life, and in every 
office that he filled, gave him so much power and despatch. Under 
the direction of his distinguished preceptor, he became intimately 
r.cquainted with the whole round of the civil and common law. 
From the same distinguished example he caught that untiring spirit 



THOMAS JEFFERSOX. 491 

of investigation, which never left a subject till he had searched it 
to the very foundation. In short, Mr. Wythe performed for him, 
as one of his eulogists remarks, what Jeremy Gridley did for his 
great rival, Mr. Adams ; he placed on his head the crown of legal 
preparation, and well did it become him. 

For his able legal preceptor, Mr. Jefferson always entertained 
the greatest respect and friendship. Indeed, the attachment of 
preceptor and pupil was mutual, and for a long series of years con- 
tinued to acquire strength and stability. At the close of his life, 
in 1806, it was found that Mr. Wythe had bequeathed his library 
and philosophical apparatus to his pupil, as a testimony of the esti- 
mation in which he was held by his early preceptor and aged 
friend. 

Mr. Jefferson was called to the bar in the year 1766. With the 
advantages which he had enjoyed with respect to legal preparation, 
it might naturally be expected that he would appear with distin- 
guished credit in the practice of his profession. The standing 
which he occupied at the bar, may be gathered from the following 
account, the production of the biographer of Patrick Henry: "It 
has been thought that Mr. Jefferson made no figure at the bar: 
but the case was tar otherwise. There are still extant, in his own 
fair and neat hand, in the manner of his master, a number of ar- 
guments, which were delivered by him at the bar, upon some of 
the most intricate questions of tlie law ; which if they should ever 
see the light, will vindicate his claim to the first honors of the pro- 
fession. ' It is true, he was not distinguished in popular debate; 
why he was not so, has often befen matter of surprise to those who 
have seen his eloquence on paper, and heard it in conversation. 
He had all the attributes of the mind, and the heart, and the soul, 
which are essential to eloquence of the highest order. The only 
defect was a physical one : he wanted volume and compass of voice, 
for a large deliberative assembly ,' and his voice from the excess of 
his sensibility, instead of rising with his feelings and conceptions, - 
sunk under their pressure, and became guttural and inarticulate. 
The consciousness of this infirmity, repressed any attempt in a 
large body, in which he knew he must fail. But his voice was all 
sufficient for the purposes of judicial debate; and there is no reason 
to doubt that if the sei'vices of his country had not called him away 



492 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

SO soon frotn his profession, his fame as a lawyer would now hav e 
stood upon the same distinguished ground, which he confessedly 
occupied as a statesman, an author, and a scholar." 

The year previous to Mr. Jefferson's admission to the bar, Mr, 
Henry introduced into the Virginia house of burgesses, then sit- 
ting at Williamsburgh, his celebrated resolutions against the stamp 
act. Mr, Jefferson was, at this time, present at the debate. "He 
was then," he says, "but a student, and stood in the door of com- 
munication, between the house and the lobby, where he heard the 
whole of this magnificent debate. The opposition to the last reso- 
lution was most vehement; the debate upon it, to use his own strong 
language, 'most bloody; but,' he adds, 'torrents of sublime elo- 
quence from Henry, backed by the solid reasoning of Johnson, 
prevailed; and.the resolution was carried by a single vote.' "I 
well remember," he continues, "the cry of 'treason,' by the speak- 
er, echoed from every part of the house, against Mr. Henry : I well 
remember his pause, and the admirable address with which he 
recovered himself, and baffled the charge thus vociferated." 

He here alludes to that memorable exclamation of Mr. Henry, 
now become almost too familiar for quotation : "Caesar had his 
Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third 
('treason !' cried the speaker ; 'treason ! treason !' echoed the house ;) 
may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most 
of it." 

The talents of Mr. Jefferson, which were early well known. 
])ermitted him not long to remain in a private station, or fo pursue 
the ordinary routine of his profession. A career of more exten- 
sive usefulness, and objects of greater importance, were now pre- 
sented to him. His country demanded his services; and at the 
early age of twenty-five, that is, in the year 1769, he entered the 
house of burgesses in Virginia, and then first inscribed his name 
as a champion of his country's rights. 

At a former period, the attachment of the American colonies to 
England was like that of an affectionate child towards a venerable 
parent. In Virginia, this attachment was unusually strong. Va- 
rious circumstances combined to render it so. Many of the fami- 
lies of that province were allied to distinguished families in En- 
gland, and the sons of the former sought their education in the 



THOMAS JEITEB?orf. 493 

universities of the mother country. It was not singular, therefore^ 
that a strong affection should exist, on the part of tliis colony, for 
the people in England, nor that the people of the colonies general- 
ly, should have come to the severance of these ties with peculiar 
reluctance. Resistance, however, was at length forced upon them 
by the rash course pursued by the British ministry. The rights cf 
the colonies were invaded; their choicest privileges were taken 
away, and loudly were the patriots of America called upon, by the 
sufferings of the country, to awake to a strong and effectual re- 
sistance. At this time, Mr. Jefferson commenced his political ca- 
reer, and has himself given us, in few words, an outline of the 
reeisons which powerfully impelled him to enter the lists, with other 
American patriots, against the parent countr}'. 

"The colonies," says he, "were taxed internally and externally ; 
their essential interests sacrificed to individuals in Great Britain ; 
their legislatures suspended; charters annulled: trials by jurors ta- 
ken away; their persons subjected to transportation across the At- 
lantic, and to trial by foreign judicatories; their supplications for 
redress thought beneath answer; themselves published as cowards 
in the councils of their mother country, and courts of Europe; 
armed troops sent among them, to enforce submission to these vio- 
lences; and actual hostilities commenced against them. No alter- 
native was presented, but resistance or unconditional submission. 
Between these there could be no hesitation. They closed in the 
appeal to arms."' 

In the year 1773, Mr. Jefferson became a member of the first 
committee of correspondence, established by the provincial assem- 
blies. We have already noticed the claim which Virginia and 
Massachusetts have respectively urged, to the honor of having 
first suggested this important measure in the revolution. Both, 
probably, in respect to this, are entitled to equal credit; but to 
whomsoever the credit belongs, that honor is, indeed, great, since 
this measure, more than most others contributed that union of ac- 
tion and sentiment, which characterised the proceeding of the sev- 
eral colonies, and which was the foundation of their final triumph 
over an ancient and powerful kingdom. 

In 17^4, Mr. Jefferson published a "Summary- View of the 
Rights of British America," a valuable production among those 



494 THOMAS JEFFERSON, 

intended to show the dangers which threatened the Uberties of the 
country, and to encourage the people in their defence. This 
pamphlet was addressed to the king, whom, in language respectful 
but bold, it reminded that America was settled by British free- 
men, whose rights had been violated ; upon whom the hand of ty- 
ranny was thus heavily lying, and from the sufferings which they 
were experiencing, they must be, and they would be free. 

The bold and independent language of this pamphlet gave great 
umbrage to lord Dunmore, the royal governor of the province. 
Mr. Jefferson on avowing himself the author of the pamphlet, was 
threatened with a prosecution for high treason, by the governor; a 
threat, which he probably would have carried into effect, could he 
have hoped that the vindictive measm*e would succeed. 

In the following year, 1775, Mr. Jefferson was selected by the 
Virginia legislature to answer lord North's famous "Conciliatory 
proposition," called in the language of the day, his "Olive branch ;" 
but it was an olive branch that concealed a serpent; or, as the 
former president Adams observed, "it was an asp in a basket of 
flowers." The task assigned him, was performed by Mr. Jeffer- 
son in a manner the most happy and satisfactory. The reply was 
cool, and calm, and close — marked with uncommon energy and 
keen sagacity. The document may be found in most of the his- 
tories of that period, and is manifestly one of the most nervous and 
manly productions of that day. It concluded with the following 
strong and independent language : 

"These, my lord are sentiments on this important subject, which 
we ofTer only as an individual part of the whole empire. Final 
determination we leave to the general congress, now sitting, be- 
fore whom we shall lay the papers your lordship has communica- 
ted to us. For ourselves we have exhausted every mode of ap- 
plication, which our invention could suggest as proper and promis- 
ing. We have decently remonstrated with parliament — they have 
added new injuries to the old; we have wearied our king with sup- 
plications — he has not deigned to answer us; we have appealed to 
the native honor and justice of the British nation — their efforts in 
our favor have hitherto been ineffectual. What then remains to 
be done? That we commit our injuries to the even-handed jus- 
tice of that Being, who doeth no wrong, earnestly beseeching Him 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 495 

to illuminate the councils, and prosper the endeavors of those to 
whom America hath confided her hopes; that through their wise 
directions, we may again see re-united the blessings of liberty, 
prosperity and harmony with Great Britain." 

In the month of June, 1775, Mr. Jefferson appeared and took 
his seat in the continental congress, as a delegate from Virginia. 
In this enlightened assembly, he soon became conspicuous among 
the most distinguished for their ability and patriotism. He was 
appointed on various important committees^ towards the discharge 
of whose duties he contributed his full share. The cause of lib- 
erty lay near his heart, nor did he hesitate to incur all necessary 
hazard in maintaining and defending it. 

Antecedently to the year 1776, a dissolution of the union with 
Great Britain had not been contemplated, either by congress or 
the nation. During the spring of that year, however, the question 
of independence became one of deep and solemn reflection among 
the American people. It was perceived by many in all parts of 
the land, that the hope of reconciliation with the parent country 
was clearly at an end. It was, indeed, an unequal contest, in 
which the colonies were engaged. It was a measure of unexam- 
pled boldness, which they were contemplating; a step, which, 
should it not receive the smiles of a propitious Providence, would 
evidently involve them and their posterity in calamities, the full 
measure and duration of which no political prophet could foretel. 
But, then, it was a measure rendered necessary by the oppression 
which they were suffering. The "shadows, clouds, and darkness," 
which rested on the future, did not deter them. The language 
which they adopted, and the feelings which they indulged, were 
the language and feelings of the patriotic Hawley, who said, "we 
must put to sea — Providence will bring us into port." 

It was fortunate for the cause of America, and for the cause of 
freedom, that there was a class of men at that day, who were ad- 
equate to the high and mighty enterprise of sundering the ties 
which bound the colonies. For this they were doubtless specially 
raised up by the God of heaven ; for this they were prepared by 
the lofty energies of their minds, and by that boldness and intre- 
pidity of character, which, perhaps, never so signally marked 
another generation of men. 



496 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

The measure thus determined upon was, at length, brought 
forward in the continental congress. When it was resolved to 
sssue a declaration of independence, Thomas Jefferson was placed 
at the head of the committee appointed to prepare that important 
instrument. He was at this time but thirty-two years of age, and 
was probably the youngest member of the committee, and one of 
the youngest men in the house, for he had only served part of the 
former session. To Mr. Jefferson the important duty of preparing 
the draught of the document was assigned. It was a task of no 
ordinary magnitude, and demanded the exercise of no common 
judgment and foresight. By the act itself, a nation was to stand 
or fall. Nay, in its effects, it was to exercise a powerful influence 
upon other nations of the globe, and might extend forward to the 
end of time. To frame a document, which should precisely meet 
the exigencies of the case — which should set forth the causes of 
complaint, according to truth — which should abide the scrutiny of 
enemies at home and abroad — which should stand the test of time, 
especially of a day which would come, when the high-wrought 
excitement, then existing, would have subsided — /Aw was no ordi- 
nary task. Indeed, there were few minds, even at that day, which 
would have felt adequate to the undertaking. 

From his study, Mr. Jefferson at length presented to his col- 
Jeagues the original draught. A few changes only, in the docu- 
ment, were suggested by two of them. Dr. Franklin and Mr. 
Adams. The whole merit of the paper was Mr. Jefferson's. On 
being reported to congress, it underwent a few other slight alter- 
ations ; none of which, however, altered the tone, the frame, the 
arrangement, or the general character of the instrument. 

"It has sometimes been said," observes an eloquent writer, "as 
if it were a derogation from the merits of this paper, that it con- 
tains nothing new; that it only states grounds for proceedings, and 
presses topics of argument, which had often been stated and 
pressed before. But it was not the object of the declaration to 
produce any thing new. It was not to invent reasons for inde- 
pendence, but to state those which governed the congress. For 
great and sufficient reasons, it was proposed to declare independ- 
ence ; and the proper business of the paper to be drawn, was, to 
set forth those causes, and justify the authors of the measure, i^ 



THOMAS JEFFERSOK, 497 

^ny event or fortune, to the country and to posterity. The cause 
of American independence, moreover, was now to be presented 
to the world in such a manner, if it might so be, as to engage its 
sympathy, to command its respect, to attract its admiration; and 
in an assembly of most able and distinguished men, Thomas Jef- 
ferson had the high honor of being the selected advocate of this 
cause. To say that he performed his great work well, would be 
doing him injustice. To say that he did excellently well, admirably 
well, would be inadequate and halting praise. Let us rather say, 
that he so discharged the duty assigned him, that all Americans 
may well rejoice that the work of drawing the title deed of their 
hberties, devolved on his hands." 

In 1778, Mr. Jefferson was appointed by congress, in conjunc- 
tion with Dr. Franklin and Silas Deane, a commissioner to France, 
for the purpose of forming a treaty of alliance and commerce with 
that nation. In consequence, however, of ill health, and impressed 
with the conviction that he could be of greater service to his coun- 
try, and especially to his state, by continuing at home, he declined 
accepting the office, and Arthur Lee was appointed in his place. 

Between 1777 and 1779, Mr. Jefferson was appointed, con- 
jointly with George Wythe and Edmund Pendleton, on a commis- 
sion for revising the laws of Virginia. This was an arduous 
service, requiring no less than one hundred and twenty-six bills, 
which were drawn by these gentlemen, and which, for simplicity 
and perspicuity, have seldom been excelled. In respect to Mr. 
Jefferson, it should be noticed, that, besides the laborious share 
which he took in revising the laws of the state, to him belongs the 
honor of having first proposed the important laws in the Virginia 
code, forbidding the importation of slaves; converting estates tail 
into fees simple ; annulling the rights of primogeniture ; establish- 
ing schools for general education, and confirming the rights of 
freedom in religious opinion, with many others. 

In 1779, Patrick Henry, who was the first republican governor, 
vmder the renovated constitution, and the successor of the earl of 
Dunmore, having served his appointed term, retired from that 
office, upon which Mr. Jefferson was chosen to succeed him. To 
this office he was re-elected the following year, and continued irj 
office until June 1781. 

43 



498 THOWL\S JEFFERSON. 

The administration of Mr. Jefferson, as governor of Virginia, 
during the above term, was arduous and difficult. The revolution- 
ary struggle was progressing, and the southern states were parti- 
cularly the theatre of hostile operations. At tliree several times, 
during his magistracy, the state of Virginia was invaded by the 
enemy; the first time, in the spring of 1780, by the ferocious gen«- 
eral Tarlton, whose mihtary movements were characterised by 
unusual barbarity, and who was followed in the invasion by the 
jmain army under lord Cornwallis. While the eyes of all were 
directed to these military movements in the south, the state expor 
rienced a still more unexpected and disastrous attack, from a body 
of troops under the guidance of the infamous Arnold, whom treach- 
ery had rendered moi-e daring and more vindictive. 

fn respect to preparations for hostilities within her own limits, 
the state of Virginia vvas sadly deficient ; nor had the habits and 
pursuits of Mr. Jefferson been of a kind which fitted him for mili- 
tary enterprise. Aware, however, of the necessity of energy and 
/exertion, in this season of danger and general distress, he ap- 
plied his mind, with alacrity and ardor, to meet the exigencies of 
the case. Scarcely had Arnold left the coast, when Cornwallis 
entered the state on its southern border. At this time the condi- 
tion of Virginia was extremely distressing. She was wholly un- 
prepared : her troops were fighting in remote parts of the country ; 
she had few military stores; and, to add to her distress, her fi- 
nances were exhausted. On the approach of Arnold, in January, 
the general assembly had hastily adjourned, to meet again at 
Charlottesville, on the 24th of May. 

In the mean time a most anxious part devolved upon the gov- 
ernor. He had few resources, and was obliged to depend, in a 
great measure, upon his personal influence, to obtain the munitions 
of war, and to raise and set in motion troops from different parts 
of the state. The various expedients which he adopted, were 
indicative of much sagacity, and were attended by success highly 
important to the common cause. — On the 24th of May, the legis- 
lature was to meet at Charlottesville. They were not formed 
for business, however, until the 28th ; a few days following which, 
the term for which Mr. Jefferson had been elected expired, and 
lie again found himself a private citizen. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 499 

On leaving the chair of state, Mr. Jefferson retired to Monticel- 
io, when intelligence was received, two days after, that a body of 
troops under command of general Tarlton, were rapidly hasten- 
ing to Charlottesville, for the purpose of surprising and capturing 
the members of the assembly. They had only time, after the 
alarm was given, to adjourn to meet at Staunton, and to disperse, 
before the enemy entered the village. Another party had direct- 
ed their course to Monticello to capture the ex-governor. Fortu- 
nately, an express hastened from Charlottesville, to convey intel- 
ligence to Mr. JefTerson of their approach. Scarcely had the 
family time to make arrangements, indispensabje for their depar- 
ture, and to effect their escape, before the enemy were seen as. 
cending the hill, leading to the mansion-house. Mr. Jefferson 
himself, mounting his horse, narrowly escaped, by taking a course 
through the woods. 

Agreeably to their appointment, the legislature assembled at 
Staunton on the 7th, soon after which, at the instigation of Mr. 
George Nicholas, an inquiry was moved into the conduct of Mr. 
Jefferson in respect to remissness in the discharge of his duty, at 
the time of Arnold's invasion. The ensuing session of the legis- 
lature was fixed upon for the investigation of the charges. At 
the arrival of the appointed time^ Mr. Nicholas had become con- 
vinced that the charges were without foundation, and this impres- 
sion having generally obtained, no one appeared to bring forward 
the investigation. Upon this, Mr. Jefferson, who had been returned 
a member of the assembly, rose in his place, and entered into a 
justification of his conduct. His statement was calm, lucid, and 
convincing. On concluding it, the house unanimously adopted 
the following resolution : 

"Resolved, That the sincere thanks of the general assembly 
be given to our former governor, Thomas Jefferson, for his impar- 
tial, upright and attentive adminisi ration, whilst in office. The as- 
sembly wish, in the strongest manner, to declare the high opinion 
they entertain of Mr. Jefferson's ability, rectitude, and integrity, 
as chief magistrate of this commonwealth; and mean, by thus pub- 
licly avowing their opinion, to obviate and to remove all unmerited 
censure." 

To this it may be added, that Mr. Nicholas, some time after, 



500 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

did Mr. Jefferson the justice to acknowlege, in a public manner,, 
the erroneous views which he had entertained^ and to express his 
regret that more correct information had not been obtained, befiire 
the accusation had been brought forward. 

In the year 1781, Mr. Jefferson composed his "Notes on Vir- 
ginia," a work which grew out of a number of questions,.proposed 
to him by M. De Marbois, the secretary of the French legation in 
the United States. It embraced a general view of the geography 
of Virginia, its natural productions, statistics, government, history, 
and laws. In 1786, Mr. Jefferson published the work under his 
own signature. It attracted much attention in Europe, as well as 
in America ; dispelled many misconceptions respecting this conti- 
nent, and gave its author a place among men distinguished for 
science. It is still admired, for the happy simplicity of its style> 
and for the extent and variety of its information. 

In 1782, Mr. Jefferson received the appointment of minister 
plenipotentiary, to join commissioners already in Europe, to settl© 
the conditions of peace between the United States and Great Britain „ 
Before his embarkation, however, intelligence was received, that 
the preliminaries of peace had been signed. The necessity of his 
mission being removed, congress dispensed with his leaving 
America. 

In November, 1783, he again took his seat in the continental 
congi'ess • but in May following, was appointed minister plenipo- 
tentiary to act abroad in the negotiations of commercial treaties, 
in conjunction with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams. In the month 
of July, Mr. Jefferson sailed for France, and joined the other 
commissioners at Paris,^ in August. 

Although ample powers had been imparted to the commissioners.^ 
they were not as successful in forming commercial treaties as had 
been expected. It was of great importance to the Unhed States 
to effect a treaty of this kind with Great Britain, and for this pur- 
pose Mr. Jefferson and Adams proceeded to London. In this im- 
portant object they failed, owing, probably, to the hostile feelings 
which the ministry indulged towards America, and to the wounded 
pride which still rankled in their breasts j and, moreover, to a sel- 
fish policy which they had adopted in respect to their navigation 
system, by which they intended to increase their own navigation 



rHOMAS JEFFERSON. 501 

at the expense of other nations, and especially of the United 
States. The only treaties which the commissioners were at this 
time able to negotiate, were with Morocco and Prussia. 

In 1785, Mr. Jefferson was appointed to succeed Dr. Franklin 
as minister plenipotentiary to the court of Versailles. The duties 
of this station he continued to perform until October, 1789, when 
he obtained leave to retire, just on the eve of that tremendous revo- 
lution which has so much agitated the world in our times. 

The discharge of Mr. Jefferson's diplomatic duties while abroad 
"was marked by great ability, diligence, and patriotism : and while 
he resided at Paris, in one of .the ntosfinteresting periods, his char- 
acter for intelligence, his love of knowledge, and of the society of 
learned men, distinguished him in the highest circles of the French 
capital. No court in Europe had, at that time, in Paris, a repre- 
sentative commanding or enjoying higher regard for political 
knowledge, or for general attainment, than the minister of this 
then infant republic." 

During his residence in France, Mr. Jefferson found leisure to 
visit both Holland and Itah'. In both countries he was received 
with the respect and attention due to his official station, as the min- 
ister of a rising republic, and as a man of learning and science. 

In the year 1789, he returned to his native country. His tal- 
ents and experience recommended him to president Washington for 
the first office in his gift. He was accordingly placed at the 
head of the department of state, and immediately entered on the 
arduous duties of that important station. 

Soon after Mr. Jefferson entered on the duties of this office, con- 
gress directed him to prepare and report a plan for establishing a 
uniform system of currency, weights and measures. This was 
followed, at a subsequent day, by reports on the subject of tonnage 
duties payable by France, and on the subject of the cod and whale 
fisheries. Each of these reports displayed the usual accuracy, in- 
formation and intelligence of the writer. 

Towards the close of the year 1791, the relation of the United 
States to several countries abroad, became embarrassing, and gave 
occasion to Mr. Jefferson to exercise those talents of a diplomatic 
character, with which he was pre-eminently endowed. "His cor- 
respondence with the ministers of other powers residing here, and 
43* 



502 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

his instructions to our own diplomatic agents abroad ; are among 
our ablest state papers. A thorough knowledge of the laws and 
usages of nations, perfect acquaintance with the immediate subject 
before him, great felicity, and still greater facility, in writing, 
show themselves in whatever effort his official situation called on 
him to make. It is believed by competent judges, that the diplo- 
matic intercourse of the government of the United States, from 
the first meeting of the continental congress in 1774, to the present 
time, taken together, would not suffer, in respect to the talent with 
which it has been conducted, by comparison with any thing which 
other and older states can produce ; and to the attainment of this 
respectability and distinction, Mr. Jefferson has contributed his 
full part." 

On the 16th of December, 1793, Mr. Jefferson communicated 
his last official report to congress, on the nature and extent of the 
privileges and restrictions on the commerce of the United States 
in foreign countries, and the measures which he deemed important 
to be adopted by the United States, for the improvement of their 
commerce and navigation. 

This report, which has ever been considered as one of primary 
importance, gave rise to a long and interesting discussion in the 
national legislature. In regard to the measures recommended in 
the report, a wide difference prevailed in congress, among the two 
great parties, into which that body had become obviously and per- 
manently divided. Indeed, it may be said to have been this report, 
which finally separated the statesmen of the country into two 
great political parties which have existed almost to the present 
time. 

On the 31st of December, 1793, Mr. Jefferson tendered his re- 
signation as secretary of state, and again retired to private life. 
The interval which elapsed between his resignation of the above 
■ fffice, and his being summoned again to the councils of the nation, 
he employed in a manner most delightful to himself, viz: in the 
education of his fanlily, the management of his estate, and the 
pursuit of philosophical studies, to the latter of which, though long 
neglected, in his devotion to higher duties, he returned with re- 
newed ardor. 

The attachment of a large proportion of his fellow-citizens, 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 503 

Avhich Mr. Jefferson carried with him into his seclusion, did not 
allow him long to enjoy the pleasures of a private life, to which 
he appears to have been sincerely devoted.. General Washing- 
ton had for some time determined upon a relinquishment of the 
presidential chair, and in his farewell address, in the month of 
September, 1796, announced that intention. This distinguished 
man, having thus withdrawn himself, the two political parties 
brought forward their respective candidates, Mr. Adams and Mr. 
Jefferson. On counting the votes in February, 1797, in the pre- 
sence of both houses of congress, it was found that Mr. Adams 
was elected president^he having the highest number of votes, and 
Mr. Jefferson vice-president, upon which respective offices they 
entered on the following 4th of March. 

In the life of Mr. Adams, we had occasion to allude to the un- 
settled state of the country, and the general dissatisfaction with 
his administration, which prevailed. During this period, however, 
Mr. Jefferson resided chiefly at Monticello, pursuing the peaceful 
and noiseless occupations of private life. The time at length ap- 
proached for a new election of president. Mr. Jefferson was 
again proposed by the republican party as a candidate for that of- 
fice. The candidate of the federal party was Mr. Adams. 

On the eleventh of February, 1801, the votes were counted in 
the presence of both houses of congress, and the result declared 
by the vice-president to be, for Thomas Jefferson seventy-three ; 
for Aaron Burr seventy-three ; John Adams sixty -five ; C. C. Pinck- 
ney sixty-four; and John Jay one. 

The vice-president then, in pursuance of the duty enjoined up- 
on him, declared that Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr, having 
an equal number of votes, it remained for the house of represen- 
tatives to determine the choice. Upon this, the two houses sep- 
arated, "and the house of representatives returned to their cham- 
ber, where seats had been previously prepared for the members 
of the senate. A call of the members of the house, arranged 
according to states, was then made ; upon which it appeared that 
every member was present, except general Sumpter, who was un- 
well, but attended, and had a bed prepared for him in one of the 
committee rooms, to which place the ballot box was carried to him, 
by the tellers, appointed on the part of the state. 



504 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

"The first ballot was eight states for Mr. Jefferson, six for Mr. 
Burr and two divided ; which result continued to be the same af- 
ter balloting thirty-five times." 

Thus stood affairs, after a long and even distressing contest, 
when a member of the house, (general Smith,) communicated 
to the house the following extract of a letter from Burr : "It is 
highly improbable that I shall have an equal number of votes with 
Mr. Jefferson : but if such should be the result, every man who 
knows me, ought to know that I would utterly disclaim all compe- 
tition. Be assured that the federal party can entertain no wish 
forsuch an exchange. 

"As to my friends, they would dishonor my views, and insult 
my feelings, by a suspicion that I would submit to be instrumen- 
tal in counteracting the wishes and expectations of the United 
States ; and I now constitute you my proxy to declare these senti- 
ments, if the occasion shall require." 

This avowal of the wishes of Mr. Burr, induced two federal 
members to withdraw ; in consequence of which, on the thirty- 
sixth balloting, Mr. Jefferson was elected president. Colonel 
Burr, by the provision of the constitution, became of course vice- 
president. 

On the 4th of March, 1801, Mr. Jefferson, agreeably to the 
constitution, took the oath of office, in the presence of both houses 
of congress, on which occasion he delivered his inaugural address. 

In this address, after expressing his diffidence in his powers, 
satisfactorily to discharge the duties of the high and responsible 
office assigned him, he proceeded to state the principles by which 
his administration would be governed. These were "equal and 
exact justice to all men, of whatever state or persuasion, religi- 
ous or political : peace, commerce and honest friendship with all 
nations, entangling alliances with none : the support of the state 
governments in all their rights, as the competent administration 
for our domestic concerns, and the surest bulwarks against anti-re- 
publican tendencies : the preservation of the general government 
in its whole constitutional vigor, as the sheet anchor of our peace 
at home, and safety abroad : a jealous care of the right of election 
by the people, a mild and safe corrective of abuses which are 
lopped by the sword of revolution, where peaceable remedies are 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 505 

unprovided : absolute acquiescence in the decisions of the major- 
ity, the vital principle of republics, from which is no appeal but 
to force, the vital principle and immediate parent of despotisms : a 
well disciplined militia, our best reliance in peace, and for the 
first moments of war, till regulars may relieve them: the supre- 
macy of the civil over the military authority : economy in the 
public expense, that labor may be lightly burthened : the honest 
payment of our debts, and sacred preservation of the public faith : 
encouragement of agriculture, and of commerce as its hand-maid : 
the diffusion of information, and arraignment of all abuses at the 
bar of public reason : freedom of religion : freedom of the press : 
and freedom of person, under the protection of the habeas cor- 
pus: and trial by juries impartially selected. These principles," 
added Mr. Jefferson, "should be the creed of our political faith ; 
and should we wander from them in moments of error or of alarm, 
let us hasten to retrace our steps, and to regain the road which 
alone leads to peace, liberty and safety." 

To enter into a minute detail of the administratioaofTVIr. Jeffer- 
son, would neither comport with the duties of a biographer, nor 
with the limits which must necessarily be prescribed to the present 
sketch. At a future day, more distant by far than the present > 
when the remembrance of political asperities shall have passed 
away, can exact justice be done to Mr. Jefferson and his adminis- 
tration. That he was a distinguished man, distinguished as a 
statesman, none can deny. But as the measures of his adminis- 
tration were called in question, in respect to theii" policy^ and as 
the day of excitement has scarcely passed by, it is deemed more 
judicious to leave the subject to the research and deliberation of 
the future historian, than, in this place, to attempt to settle ques- 
tions, about which there were, while he lived, and still may exist, 
an honest difierence of opinion. 

On the meeting of congress in December, 1801, Mr. Jefferson, 
varying from the practice of the former presidents, communicated 
a message to congress, instead of delivering a speech in person. 
The change in this respect thus introduced was obviously so popu- 
lar and acceptable, that it has been adopted on every subsequent 
similar occasion. 

The principal acts w hicli characterised the first term of Mr. 



506 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

Jefferson's career, were a removal from responsible and lucrative 
offices of a great portion of those whose political opinions were 
opposed to his own; the abolition of the internal taxes; reorgan- 
ization of the judiciary; an extension of the laws relative to nat- 
uralization; the purchase of Louisiana, and the establishment of 
commercial and friendly relations with various western tribes of 
Indians. 

On the occurrence of a new presidential election, in 1805, the 
administration of Mr. Jefferson had been so acceptable, that he 
was re-elected by a majority, not of eight votes, as in the former 
instance, but by one hundred and forty-eight. Inspired with new 
zeal by this additional proof of confidence which his fellow-citi- 
zens had given him, he took occasion, in his second inaugural ad- 
dress, to assert his determination to abide by those principles upon ' 
which he had administered the government, and approbation of 
which, on the part of the people, he read in their re-election of 
him to the same exalted station. In concluding his inaugural ad- 
dress, he took occasion to observe : "I do not fear that any motives 
of interest may lead me astray; I am sensible of no passion which 
could seduce me knowingly from the path of justice; but the weak*- 
nes3 of human nature, and the limits of my own understanding,, 
will produce errors of judgment sometimes injurious to your in- 
terests; I shall need, therefore, all the indulgence I have hereto- 
fore experienced ; the want of it will certainly not lessen with in- 
creasing years. I shall need, too, the favor of that Being in whose 
hands we are, who led our forefathers, as Israel of old, from their 
native land, and planted them in a country flowing with ail the 
necessaries and comforts of life; who has covered our infancy 
with his providence, and our riper years with his wisdom and 
{jower." 

On the second election of Mr. Jefferson to the presidency, the 
vice-presidency was transferred from Mr. Burr to George Clinton, 
of New-York. A merited odium has settled upon Mr. Burr, in 
consequence of his unprincipled duel with general Hamilton, in 
which the latter gentleman had fallen a victim to murderous re- 
venge. From this time, Mr. Burr sunk, as it was thought, into 
final obscurity; but his future conduct showed, that while unob- 
served by his fellow-citizens, he had been achieving a project, 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 507 

•which, but for the sagacity and effective measures of Mr. Jeffer- 
son, might have led even to a dissolution of the union. 

In the autumn of 1806, the movements of Mr. Burr first at- 
tracted the notice of government. He had purchased and was 
building boats on the Ohio, and engaging men to descend that river. 
His declared purpose was to form a settlement on the banks of 
the Washita, in Louisiana; but the character of the man, the na- 
ture of his preparations, and the incautious disclosures of his as- 
sociates, led to the suspicion that his true object was either to 
gain possession of New-Orleans, and to erect into a separate gov- 
ernment the country watered by the Mississippi and its branches, 
or to invade, from the territories of the United States, the rich 
Spanish province of Mexico. 

From the first moment of suspicion, he was closely watched 
by the agents of the government. At Natchez, while on his way 
to New-Orleans, he was cited to appear before the supreme court 
of the Mississippi territory. But he had so enveloped his projects 
in secresy, that sufHcient evidence to convict him could not be 
produced, and he was discharged. Hearing, however, that sev- 
eral persons, suspected of being his accomplices, had been ar- 
rested at New-Orleans and elsewhere, he fled in disguise from 
Natchez, was apprehended on the Tombigbee, and conveyed a 
prisoner to Richmond. Two indictments were found against him, 
one charging him with treason against the United States, the other 
with preparing and commencing an expedition against the domin- 
ions of Spain. 

In August, 1S07, he was tried upon those indictments before 
John Marshall, the chief justice of the United States. Full evi- 
dence of his guilt not being exhibited, he was acquitted by the 
jury. The people, however, believed him guilty; and by their 
desertion and contempt he was reduced to a condition of the most 
abject wretchedness. The ease with which his plans were de^ 
feated, demonstrated the strength of the government; and his fate 
will ever be an impressive warning to those who, in a free coun- 
try, listen to the suggestions of criminal ambition. 

While these domestic troubles were, in a measure, agitating the 
country, questions of still greater importance were engaging the 
attention of the government in respect to our foreign relations. — 



508 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

War was at this time waging between England and France. A- 
merica, taking advantage of the belligerent state of these king- 
doms, was advantageously employing herself, as a neutral power, 
in carrying from port to port the productions of France and her 
dependent kin!>doms, and also to the ports of those kingdoms the 
manufactures of England. 

Great Britain, at this time, and indeed from the peace of 1783, 
had claimed a right to search for and seize her seamen, even on 
board of neutral vessels while traversing the ocean. In the exer- 
cise of this pretended right, many unlawful seizures were made, 
against vt'hich Washington, Adams, and Jefferson, had successive- 
ly remonstrated in vain. Added, to this, the Americans were mo- 
Jested in the carrying trade, their vessels being seized by British 
cruizers while transporting to the continent the products of the 
French colonies, and condemned by the English courts as lawful 
prizes. In May, 1806, were issued the British orders in council, 
by w^hich several European ports, under the control of France, 
were declared to be in a state of blockade, although not invested 
with a British fleet, and American vessels, in attempttng to enter 
those ports, were captured and condemned. 

As a measure retaliatory to the above orders in council, the 
French emperor issued a decree at Berlin, in 1806, declaring the 
British islands in a state of blockade. In consequence of these 
measures of the two belligerents, the commerce of the United 
States severely suffered, and their merchants were loud in their 
demands on the government for redress and protection. 

In June, 1807, an act was committed, which raised the indigna- 
tion of the whole American people, and concentrated upon the 
British government the whole weight of popular indignation. — 
This was an attack upon the frigate Chesapeake, just as she was 
leaving her port for a distant service, by order of a British admiral, 
in consequence of which three of her men were killed, and four 
taken away. This outrage occasioned an immediate proclamation 
on the part of Mr. Jefferson, requiring all British armed vessels 
immediately to depart from the waters of the United States, and 
forbidding all such to enter. Instructions were forwarded to the 
American minister at the court of Great Britain, to demand satisr 
faction for the insult, and security against future aggression. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 509 

Congress was summoned to meet, and decide upon the further 
measures which should be adopted. In the mean time, the British 
government promptly disavowed the act of the officer, by whom 
the above outrage had been committed, and offered reparation for 
the injuries done, which some time after was carried into eifect. 

From this time the conduct of the belligerents was such, in re- 
spect to each other, as to bear oppressively upon the American 
nation, leaving the government of the latter no other alternative, 
but abject submission, or decided retaliation. In respect to the 
latter course, two measures only could be adopted ; a declaration 
of war, or a suspension of the commerce of the United States. — 
The latter alternative was adopted, and on the 23d day of Decem- 
ber 1807, an act passed both houses of congress, laying a general 
embargo. In respect to the policy of the embargo, the most pro- 
minent feature in the administration of Mr. Jefferson, different 
opinions prevailed among the American people. By the admini- 
stration it was acknowledged to be only an experiment, which, 
while it showed the spirit of the nation, and operated with no in- 
considerable severity upon the interests of the belligerents, left 
the way open to negotiations, or, if necessary, to actual war. 

Before the result of thai system of measures, which had been 
recommended by Mr. Jefferson, was fully known, the period ar- 
rived when a new election to the presidency was to take place. 
As Mr. Jefferson had reached the age of sixty-five years, forty 
of which had almost uninterruptedly been devoted to the arduous 
duties of public life, he was desirous, at the close of his then pre- 
sidential term, of ending his political career. Having formed 
this determination, he alluded to it in a message to congress, in 
the following language : "Availing myself of this, the last occasion 
which will occur, of addressing the two houses of the legislature 
at their meeting, I cannot omit the expression of my sincere gra- 
titude for th^ repeated proofs of confidence manifested to me by 
themselves and their predecessors, since my call to the adminis- 
tration, and the many indulgences experienced at their hands. — • 
*The same grateful acknowledgments are due to ray fellow citizens 
generally, whose support has been my great encouragement under 
all embarrassments. In the transaction of their business, I cannot 
have escaped error. It is incident to .our imperfect nature But 
44 



510 THOIHAS JEFFERSON. 

I may say with truth, my errors have been of the understanding, 
not of intention ; and that the advancement of their rights and 
interests has been the constant motive of every measure. On 
these considerations I solicit their indulgence. Looking forward 
with anxiety to their future destinies, I trust, that in their steady 
character, unshaken by difficulties ; in their love of liberty, obedi- 
ence to law, and support of public authorities, I see a sure gua- 
rantee of the permanence of our republic; and retiring from the 
charge of their affairs, I carry v/ith me the consolation of a firm 
persuasion, that heaven has in store for our beloved country, long 
ages to come of prosperity and happiness." 

From the time of his retirement from public life, in 1807, Mr. 
Jefferson I'esided at Monticello, and lived as became a wise man. 
"Surrounded by affectionate friends, his ardor in the pursuit of 
knowledge undiminished, with uncommon health, and unbroken 
spirits, he was able to enjoy largely the rational pleasures of life, 
and to partake in that public prosperity, which he had so much 
contributed to produce. His kindness and hospitality, the charm 
of his conversation, the ease of his manners, the extent of his ac- 
quirements, and especially the full store of revolutionary incidents 
which he possessed, and which he knew when and how to dis- 
pense, rendered his abode, in a high degree, attractive to his ad- 
miring countrymen, while his high public and scientific character 
drew towards him every intelligent and educated traveller from 
abroad." 

Although Mr. Jefferson had withdrawn from public life, he was 
still anxious to promote the objects of science, taste, and literature, 
and especially solicitous to see established a university in his na- 
tive state. To this object he devoted several years of incessant 
and anxious attention, and by the enlightened liberality of the 
legislature of Virginia, and the co-operation of other able and 
zealous friends, he lived to see it accomplished. 

It has often been the lot of those who have devoted themselves 
to the public service, to suffer in the decline of life from the hand 
of poverty. This was the lot of Mr. Jefferson. His patrimony 
was originally large, but was unavoidably neglected, in his atten- 
dance upon the duties of the high official stations which he filled. 
Partial efforts were made in his native state, and in other parts 



ROGKR SHERMAN. 511 

of the country, to relieve his embarrassments,- but the precise 
extent of the measures adopted, in reference to this subject, we 
have not the means of ascertaining. 

At length, the day on which this illustrious man was to termin- 
ate his long and useful career, approached. That day, by the 
appointment of heaven, was to be the fourth of July, 1826. It 
was a day which, fifty years before, he had helped to make im- 
mortal,- and at ten minutes before one o'clock, on that day — mem- 
orable, also, for the departure of his compatriot, Adams — Mr. 
Jefferson himself expired at Monticello. At this time he had 
reached the age of eighty -three years, two months, and tvventy- 
onie days. In stature, he was six feet and two inches hi^h: his 
person was erect and well formed, though spare. 

"In a private memorandum found among some other obituary 
papers and relics of Mr. Jefferson, is a suggestion, in case a mon- 
ument over him should ever be thought of, that a granite obelisk, 
of small dimensions, should be erected with the following inscrip- 
tion : 'Here was buried Thomas Jeffeesox, author of the Decla- 
ration of Independence, of the statutes of Virginia for religious 
freedom, and father of the University of Virginia.'" 



ROGER SHERMAN. 

I?f a free nation, where the pathway to the highest offices and 
the most honorable employments, is open to every aspirant, in 
which there are no legal obstructions to the advancement of the 
poor more than the rich, it is sometimes the fact, that individual 
enterprise, and persevering industry, achieve for children of pa- 
rents in humble life, and limited property, what the sons of the 
affluent, accommodated with every facility, but wanting enterprise 
and application, are never able to attain. Instances have existed, 
and instances do now exist in the United States, in which this 
remark has been verified; and since the way is equally open to 
all, and the prize is placed in clear view before them, as a sure 
rewai"d to all who reach the goal, it may be reasonably expected 
that many more will hereafter have it verified, as a reward for 
their honorable exertions. The most distinguished and the most 
useful men, do not always lay the foundation of their fame and 
honorable distinction, in the classical halls and lecture rooms of 



512 ROGER SHERMAN, 

an university. Probably there have been but few instances, in 
which the preceding remarks have been more literally illustrated 
and verified, than in the one now under consideration. 

Roger Sherman's ancestor, his great grandfather, John Sherman, 
came to America, from Dedham, England, and settled at Water- 
town, Massachusetts, in the year 1635. William Sherman, the 
grandson of John, and the father of Roger, lived at Newtown, in 
Massachusetts, where he cultivated his small farm, and thus ob- 
tained support for his family by honest industry, until 1723, two 
years after the birth of his son Roger. This took place in New- 
town, in 1721, on the 19th day of April, In 1723, the family re- 
moved to Stoughton, in that state. There his father continued his 
residence until his death in 1741, when the support of the family 
and the superintendence of its concerns, devolved on Roger; who 
was the second son of his parents. His elder brother had previ- 
ously removed to Connecticut, and settled in New-Milford in the 
county of Litchfield. Roger at the time of his father's decease, 
was but nineteen years old. He had enjoyed no other means for 
obtaining an education, than such as the country common schools 
at that time aftbrded; and these were extremely limited, as is well 
known by all who are acquainted with the state of the country 
for a considerable period subsequent to that date. 

His father's family was numerous ; and being in humble life and 
moderate circumstances, Roger was apprenticed to a shoemaker. 

He continued to reside with his mother's family about three 
years after his father's decease, and was employed principally in 
cultivating the farm, and otherwise in providing for the bereaved 
family. About that time it was judged expedient to change their 
residence, and remove to a distance. The property which they 
owned in Newtown, was disposed of; and the family removed to 
New-Milford, in Connecticut, in 1743. Mr. Sherman made the 
journey on foot, carrying his tools with him from Massachusetts 
to their new place of residence. There he commenced business 
as a merchant, in company with his elder brother, who had estab- 
lished himself in that town some years before. 

Mr. Sherman early evinced an unusual thirst for knowledge. — 
This led him to seize with avidity every opportunity to acquire it. 
The acquisition of such a mind, even with the disadvantages un- 



ROGER SHERMAN. 513 

der which he labored, must have been comparatively easy, and his 
improvement was rapid. The variety and extent of his attain- 
ments, even at this early age, are almost incredible. He soon be- 
came known in the county of Litchfield, where he resided, as a 
man of more than ordinary talents, and of unusual skill in the 
science of mathematics. In 1745, only two years after his re- 
moval into the above county, and at the age of twenty-four, he was 
appointed to the office of county surveyor. At this time it appears, 
also, that he had made no small advance in the science of astron- 
omy. As early as 1748, he supplied the astronomical calculations 
for an almanac, published in the city of New-York, and continued 
this supply for several succeeding years. 

1749, he was married to Miss Elizabeth Hartvvell, of Stoughton, 
in Massachusetts. After her decease, 1760, he married Miss Re- 
becca Prescot, of Danvers, in the same state. By these wives 
he had fifteen children, seven by the former, and eight by the 
latter. 

In 1754, Mr. Sherman was admitted as an attorney to the bar. 
It is a trite remark, that great effects often proceed fi-om small 
causes, and that unfrequently some apparently trivial occurrence, 
exercises a controlling influence over the whole after life of an 
individual. Both these remarks are eminently verified in the his- 
tory of Mr. Sherman. While yet a young man, and, it is believed, 
before he had relinquished his mechanical occupations, he had oc- 
casion to go to a neighboring town to transact some business for 
himself A short time previous to this, a neighbor of his, in set- 
tling the affairs of a person deceased, became involved in a difficulty 
which required the assistance of legal counsel. The neighbor 
stated the case to young Sherman, and authorized him to seek the 
advice of the lawyer of the town to which he was going. 

As the subject was not without intricacy, Sherman committed 
the case to paper, and on his arrival in the town, proceeded with 
his manuscript to the lawyer's office. In stating the case to the 
lawyer, he had frequent occasion to recur to the manuscript. This 
was noticed by the lawyer, and, as it was necessary to present a 
petition in the case to some court, Sherman was requested to leave 
the paper, as an assistance in framing the petition. The modesty 
of young Sherman would scarcely permit him to comply with the 



514 ROGER SHERMAN, 

request. "The paper," he said, "was only a memorandum drawn 
by himself to assist his memory." He gave it, however, into the 
hands of the lawyer, who read it with surprise. He found it to 
contain a clear statement of the case, and remarked, that with 
some slight verbal alterations, it would be equal to any petition 
which he himself could draft. 

The conversation now passed to the situation and circumstances 
of young Sherman. The lawyer urged him seriously to think upon 
the profession of the law. At this time, he was deeply involved 
in the care of his father's family, which, as before noticed, were 
left in a great measure destitute at his decease. The suggestion . 
however, appears not to have been lost upon him. A new direc- 
tion was given to his thoughts. A stronger impulse was added to 
his energies. His leisure hours were devoted to the acquisition 
of legal knowledge, and in 1754, as already remarked, he entered 
upon a professional career, in which few have attained to a greater 
honor and distinction. 

From this date, Mr. Sherman soon became distinguished as a 
judicious counsellor, and was rapidly promoted to offices of trust 
and responsibility. The year following his admission to the bar, 
he was appointed a justice of the peace for New-Milford, which 
town he also represented the same year in the colonial assembly. 
In 1759, he was appointed judge of the court of common pleas for 
the county of Litchfield, an office which he filled with great repu- 
tation for the two following years. 

At the expiration of this time, that is in 17G1, he became a re- 
sident of New-Haven, of which town he was soon after appointed 
a justice of the peace, and often represented it in the colonial as- 
sembly. To these offices was added, in 1765, that of judge of the 
court of common pleas. About the same time he was appointed 
treasurer of Yale college, which institution bestowed upon him 
the honorary degree of master of arts. 

In 1766, he was elected by the freemen of the colony, a member 
of the upper house, in the general assembly of Connecticut. The 
members of the upper house were called assistants. This bod}- 
held their deliberations with closed doors. The precise rank, 
therefore, which Mr. Sherman held among his colleagues, or the 
services which he rendered his country, cannot now be ascertained. 



ROGER SHERMAIs', 515 

Few men,however, were better fitted for a deliberative assembly. 
During the same year, the confidence of liis fellow-citizens was 
still further expressed, by his appointment to the office of judge of 
the superior court. The offices, thus conferred upon him, during 
the same year, were not then considered as incompatible. He 
continued a member of the upper house for nineteen years, until 
1785, at which time the two offices which he held, being considered 
as incompatible, he relinquished his seat at the council board, pre- 
ferring his station as a judge. This latter office he continued to 
exercise until 1789, when he resigned it, on being elected to con- 
gress under the federal constitution. 

At an early stage of the controversy between Great Britain and 
her American colonies, Mr. Sherman warmly espoused the cause 
of his country. This was to be expected of him. A man of so 
much integrity and consistency of character, of such firmness and 
solidity, would not be likely to be wanting in the day of trial. It 
was fortunate for America, that she had some such men in her 
councils, to balance and keep in check the feverish Spirits which, 
in their zeal, might have injured, rather than benefitted the cause. 
Mr. Sherman was no enthusiast, nor was he to be seduced from the 
path of duty, by motives of worldly ambition, or love of applause. 
He early perceived, that the contest would have to be terminated 
])y a resort to arms. Hence, he felt the paramount importance of 
union among the colonies. He felt the full force of the sentiment, 
^'United we stand, divided we fall." From the justice or clemency 
of Great Britain, he expected nothing,- nor at an early day, could 
he perceive any rational ground to hope that the contest could be 
settled, but by the entire separation of American and British inter- 
ests. He was, therefore, prepared to proceed, not rashly, but with 
deliberate firmness, and to resist, even unto blood, the unrighteous 
attempts of the British parliament to enthral and enslave the Amer- 
ican colonies. 

Of the celebrated congress of 1774, Mr, Sherman was a con- 
spicuous member. He was present at the opening of the session ; 
and continued uninterruptedly a member of that body for the long 
space of nineteen years, until his death in 1793. 

Of the important services which he rendered his country, during 
liis congressional career, it is difficult and even impossible to form 



51G ROGER SHERMAN. 

an estimate. He served on various committees, whose delibera- 
tions often involved the highest interest of the country. During 
the continuance of the war of the revolution, the duties of com- 
mittees were frequently arduous and fatiguing. No man ad- 
ventured upon those duties with more courage: no one exercised 
a more indefatigable zeal than did Mr. Sherman. He investiga- 
ted every subject with uncommon particularity, and formed his 
judgment with a comprehensive view of the whole. This, to- 
gether with the well known integrity of his character, attracted 
universal confidence. He naturally became, therefore, one of 
the leading and most influential members of congress, during the 
period of his holding a seat in that body. 

Of the congress of 1775, Mr. Sherman was again a member; 
but of this day of clouds and darkness, when the storm which had 
long lowered, began to burst forth on every side, we can take no 
further notice than to mention, with gratitude and admiration, the 
firmness of those assembled sages who, with courage, breasted 
themselves to the defence of the liberties of their country, having 
counted the cost, and being prepared to surrender their rights only 
with their lives. 

In the congress of 1776, Mr. Sherman took a distinguished part . 
He assisted on committees appointed to give instructions for the 
military operations of the army in Canada; to establish regulations 
and restrictions on the trade of the United States ; to regulate the 
currency of the country ; to furnish supplies for the army ; to pro- 
vide for the expenses of the government; to prepare articles of 
confederation between the several states, and to propose a plan of 
military operations for the campaign of 1776. 

During this year, also, he received the most flattering testimony 
of the high estimation in which he was held by congress, in being 
associated with Adams, Jefferson, Franklin and Livingston, in 
the responsible duty of preparing the declaration of independence. 

The reputation of Mr. Sherman abroad, was cordially recipro- 
cated in the state in which he resided. Few men were ever more 
highly esteemed in Connecticut. The people understood his 
worth. They respected him for his abilities, but still more for his 
unbending integrity. During the war, he belonged to the gov- 
ernor's council of safety ; and from the year 1784 to his death, he 



EOGER SHERMAN. 517 

held the mayoralty of the city of New-Haven. In 1783, he was 
appointed, with the honorable Richard Law, both of whom were 
at this time judges of the superior court, to revise the statutes of 
the state. This service rendered doubly onerous to the committee 
from their being instructed to digest all the statutes relating to the 
same subject into one, and to reduce the whole to alphabetical or- 
der, was performed with great ability. Many useless statutes 
were omitted ; others were altered to correspond to the great changes 
which had then recently taken place in the state of the coun- 
try, find the whole reduced to comparative order and simplicity. 

Another expression of the public confidence awaited Mr. Sher- 
man in 1787. Soon after the close of the war, the inefficacy of 
the old confederation between the states was apparent. The ne- 
cessity of a federal constitution, by which the powers of the state 
governments and of the general government should be more nice- 
ly balanced, became every day more obvious. Accordingly, in 
1787, a general convention of the states, for forming a new con- 
stitution, was called, and Mr. Sherman, in connexion with the 
learned Mr. Ellsworth and Dr. Johnson, were appointed to attend 
it, on the part of Connecticut. In this assemblage of patriots, dis- 
tinguished for their political wisdom, Mr. Sherman was conspicu- 
ous; and contributed, in no small degree, to the perfection of that 
constitution, under which the people of America have for more 
than fifty years enjoyed as much civil liberty and political pros- 
perity as is, probably, compatible with the lapsed condition of the 
human race. Many of the convention, who warmly advocated 
the adoption of the constitution, were not, indeed, well pleased with 
every feature of that instrument. To this number Mr. Sherman 
belonged. He was of the opinion, however, as were others, that 
it was the best which, under existing circumstances, the conven- 
tion could have framed. On his return to Connecticut, when the 
question respecting the adoption of the constitution came before 
the convention of that state, its adoption according to the testimo- 
ny of the late chief justice Ellsworth, was in no small degree, 
owing to the influence of Mr. Sherman. On that occasion, he ap- 
peared before the convention, and with great plainness and per- 
spicuity, entered into an explanation of the probable operation of 
the principles of the constitution. 



518 KOGER SHERMAN. 

Under this new constitution, he was elected a representative to 
congress, troni the state of Connecticut. At the expiration of two 
years, a vacancy occurring in the senate, he was elevated to a 
seat in that h )dy, an office which he continued to hold, and the 
duties of which he continued to discharge with honor and reputa- 
tion to himself, and with great usefulness to his country, until the 
23d day of July, 1793, when he was gathered to his fathers, in 
the seventy -third year of his age. 

In estimating the character of Mr. Sherman, we must dwell a 
moment upon his practical wisdom. This, in him, was a predom- 
inant trait. He possessed, more than most men, an intimate ac- 
quaintance with human nature. He understood the springs of 
human action in a remarkable degree, and well knew in what 
manner to touch them, to produce a designed effect. This prac- 
tical wisdom, anotlier name for common sense, powerfully contri- 
buted to guide him to safe results, on all the great political ques- 
tions in which he was concerned, and assisted him to select the 
means which were best adapted to accomplish the best ends. With 
the habits and opinions, with the virtues and vices, the prejudices 
and weaknesses of his countrymen, he was also well acquainted. 
Hence, he understood, better than many others, who were super- 
ior to him in the rapidityof their genius, what laws and principles 
they would bear, and what they would hot bear, in government. 
Of the practical wisdom of Mr. Sherman, we might furnish many 
honorable testimonies and numerous illustrations. We must con- 
tent ourselves, however, with recording a remark of president 
Jefferson, to the late Dr. Spring, of Newburyport. During the 
sitting of congress at Philadelphia, the latter gentleman, in com- 
pany with Mr. Jefferson, visited the national hall. Mr. Jefferson 
pointed out to the doctor several of the members who were most 
conspicuous. At length, his eye rested upon Roger Sherman.—- 
"That," said he, pointing his finger, "is Mr. Sherman, of Connec- 
ticut, a man v}ho never said a foolish thing in his life.'''' Not less 
complimentary was the remark of Mr. Macon, the aged and dis- 
tinguished senator, who has recently retired from public life. 
"Roger Sherman had more common sense than any man I ever 
knew." 
Another distinguishing trait in the character of Roger Sherman, 



ROGER SHERMAN, 519 

was his unbending integrity. No man, probably ever stood more 
aloof from the suspicion of a selfish bias, or of sinister motives. 
In both his pubhc and private conduct, he was actuated by princi- 
ple. The opinion which appeared correct, he adopted, and the 
measure which appeared the best, he pursued, apparently unin- 
fluenced by passion, prejudice, or interest. It was probably ow- 
ing to this trait in his character, that he enjoyed such extraordina- 
ry influence in those deliberative bodies of which he was a mem- 
ber. In his speech, he was slow and hesitating. He had few of 
the giraces of oratory; yet no man was heard with deeper atten- 
tion. This attention arose from the solid conviction of the hear- 
ers, that he was an honest man. What he said, was indeed al- 
ways applicable to the point, was clear, was weighty; and, as the 
late president Dwight remarked, was generally new and important . 
Yet the weight of his observations, obviously sprung from the in- 
tegrity of the man. It was this trait in his character, which eli- 
cited the observation of the distinguished Fisher Ames : "If I 
am absent," said he, "during the discussion of a subject, and con- 
sequently know not on which side to vote, I always look at Roger 
Sherman, for I am sure if I vote with him I shall vote right?'^ 

To the above excellent traits in the character of Mr. Sherman, 
it may be added, that he was eminently a pious man. He was 
long a professor of religion, and one of its brightest ornaments. — 
Nor was his religion that which appeared only on occasions. It 
was with him a principle and a habit. It appeared in the closet, 
in the family, on the bench, and in the senate house. Few meiw 
had a higher reverence for the bible; few men studied it with 
deeper attention ; iew were more intimately acquainted with the 
doctrines of the gospel, and the metaphysical controversies of the 
day. On these subjects, he maintained an extended correspon- 
dence with some of the most distinguished divines of that period, 
among whom were Dr. Edwards, Dr. Hopkins, Dr. TrumbulJ, 
president Dickenson, and president Withcrspoon, all of whom 
had a high opinion of him as a theologian, and derived much in- 
struction form their correspondence with him. 

If the character of a man's religion is to be tested by the fruits 
it produces, the religion of Mr. Sherman must be admitted to have 
been not of this world. He was naturally possessed of strong 



520 ROGER SHERMAN. 

passions ; but over these he at length obtained an extraordinary 
control. He became habitually calm, sedate, and self-possessed. 
The following instance of his self-possession is worthy of being 
recorded. 

Mr. Sherman was one of tjiose men who are not ashamed to 
maintain the forms of religion in the family. One morning he 
called them together, as usual, to lead them in prayer to God : the 
"old family bible" was brought out, and laid on the table. Mr. 
Sherman took his seat, and beside him placed one of his children, 
a small child, a child of his old age; the rest of the family were 
seated round the room; several of these were now grown up. — 
Besides these, some of the tutors of the college, and it is believed, 
some of the students, were boarding in the family, and were pres- 
ent at the time alluded to. His aged, and now superannuated moth- 
er, occupied a corner of the room, opposite to the place where the 
distinguished judge of Connecticut sat. At length he opened the 
bible, and began to read. The child which was seated beside him, 
made some little disturbance, upon which Mr. Sherman paused, 
and told it to be still. Again he proceeded, but again he paused, 
to reprimand the little offender, whose playful disposition would 
scarcely permit it to be still. At this time, he gently tapped its 
ear: the blow, if it might be called a blow, caught the attention of 
his aged mother, who now with some effort rose from her seat, and 
tottered across the room. At length, she reached the chair of Mr. 
Sherman, and in a moment most unexpected to him, she gave him 
a blow on the ear, with all the power she could summon. " There,''' 
said she, "j/om strike your child, and I will strike mine.'''' 

For a moment, the blood was seen rushing to the face of Mr. 
Sherman ; but it was only for a moment, when all was as mild and 
calm as usual. He paused — ^he raised his spectacles — he cast his 
eye upon his mother — again it fell upon the book, from which he 
had been reading. Perhaps he remembered the injunction, "hon- 
or thy mother," and he did honor her. Not a word escaped him; 
but again he calmly pursued the service, and soon after sought in 
prayer ability to set an example before his household, which should 
be worthy their imitation. Such self-possession is rare. Such a 
victory was worth more than the proudest victory ever achieved 
in the field of battle. 



CHARLES CARROLL. 521 

We have room only to add the inscription, which is recorded 
upon the tablet which covers the tomb of this truly excellent man : 
♦*In memory of the Hon. Roger Sherjl^is, Esq. Mayor of the city 
of New-Haven, and Senator of the United States. He was born 
at Newton, in Massachusetts, April 19th, 1721, and died in New- 
Haven, July 23d, A. D. 1793, aged 72. Possessed of a strong, 
clear, penetrating mind, and singular perseverance, he became 
the self-taught scholar, eminent for jurisprudence and policy. — 
He was nineteen years an assistant, and twenty-three years a 
judge of the superior court, in high reputation. He was a Dele- 
gate in the first Congress, signed the glorious act of Independence, 
and many years displayed superior talents and ability in the na- 
tional legislature. ' He was a member of the general convention, 
approved the federal constitution, and served his country with fi- 
delity and honor, in the House of Representatives, and in the Sen- 
ate of the United States. He was a man of approved integrity ; 
a cool, discerning Judge; a prudent, sagacious Politician; a true, 
faithful, and firm Patriot. He ever adorned the profession of Chris- 
tianity which he made in youth; and distinguished through life 
for public usefulness, died in the prospect of a blessed immortality.''' 



CHARLES CARROLL OF CARROLLTON. 

This gentleman descended from Irish ancestry. His grand- 
father, Daniel Carroll, a native of Littarhoura, in Ireland, was a 
clerk in England, in the office of lord Powis, in the reign of James 
II. but he left England and emigrated to America, in the latter 
part of the seventeenth century. He came to Maryland under 
the patronage of lord Baltimore, the principal patentee or propri- 
etor of that colony, and was appointed as his agent, to receive his 
rents, and also as judge, and register of the land office. 

The father of the subject of this notice, was born in 1702, and 
died at the age of eighty years. His son, now universally called 
Charles Carroll of CarroUton, was born at Annapolis, Maryland, 
on the 27th of September, in the year 1737. When only eight 
years old, his father took him to France, and placed him in an 
English Jesuit's college at St. Omer's, to be educated. After re- 
maining there six years he went to Rheims, to a college of Frencii 
Jesuits, to pursue his studies in that seminary, There he contin- 
45 



522 CHARLES CARROLL. 

ued but one year, and then was removed to the college of Louis 
le Grand, where he remained two years. He then went to Bourges 
to study law, and at the end of twelve months removed to Paris. 
Here he continued till 1757, and then went to London, to study 
law in England. For this purpose he took apartments in the inner 
temple. From England he returned to the place of his nativity 
in 1765, just about the time when the British ministry began to 
promulgate their system of measures, which eventually led to the 
independence of the American colonies. 

A few years following the repeal of the stamp act, the violent 
excitement occasioned by that measure, in a degree subsided 
throughout all the colonies. In this calmer state of things, the 
people of Maryland participated. But about the year 1771, great 
commotion was excited in that province, in consequence of the 
arbitrary conduct of governor Eden and his council, touching the 
fees of the civil officers of the colonial government. These fees 
had become, in the estimation of the popular branch of the assem- 
bly, from the manner in which they were charged, exceedingly 
exorbitant. To correct the abuses growing out of the indefinite 
character of the law, a new law was framed, and after being 
passed by the lower house, was sent to the upper house for their 
concurrence. This, however, was refusied, and the assembly was 
prorogued without coming to any agreement on the subject. — 
Shortly after, governor Eden issued his proclamation, the ostensi- 
ble object of which was, to prevent oppressions and extortions on 
the part of tlie officers, in exacting unreasonable and oppressive 
fees. The proclamation was in reality, however, highly excep- 
tionable in the view of the people, as it affected to settle the point, 
which was the prerogative only of the people. The fees in ques- 
tion were considered in the light of a tax, the power to lay which 
the people justly claimed to themselves. The controversy which 
grew out of this arbitrary exercise of power on the part of gov- 
ernor Eden, became exceedingly spirited. Several writers of 
distinguished character enlisted themselves on different sides of 
the question. Among these writers, no one was more conspicuous 
than Mr. Carroll. The natural consequence of his firmness in 
defence of the rights of the people, was, that great confidence 
was reposed in him on their part, and he was looked up to as one 



CHARLES CARROLL, 523 

^vho was eminently qualified to lead in the great struggle which 
was approaching between the colonies and the parent country. 

From what has been observed respecting Mr. Carroll, it may 
justly be inferred that his mind was made up at an early day, as 
to the course duty required him to take in respect to this coming 
storm. An anecdote is related of him, which will illustrate his 
influence with the people of Maryland. By a resolution of the 
delegates of Maryland, on the 22d day of June 1774, the impor- 
tation of tea was prohibited. Sometime after, however, a vessel 
arrived at Annapolis, having a quantity of this article on board. 
This becoming known, the people assembled in great multitudes, 
to take effectual measures to prevent its bei^g landed. At length 
the e.xcitement became so high, that the personal safety of the 
captain of the yessel became endangered. In this state of things, 
the friends of the captain made application to Mr. Carroll, to in- 
terpose his influence with the people in his behalf. The public 
indignation was too great to be easily allayed. This Mr. Carroll 
perceived, and advised the captam and his friends, as the only 
probable means of safety to himself, to set fire to the vessel, and 
burn it to the water's edge. This alternative was indeed severe; 
but, as it was obviously a measure of necessity, the vessel was 
drawn out, her sails were set, and her colors unfurled, in which 
attitude the fire was applied to her, and in the presence of an im- 
raense concourse of people, she was consumed. This atonement 
was deemed satisfactory, and the captain was no farther molested. 

In the early part of 1776, Mr. Carroll, whose distinguished 
exertions in Maryland had become extensively known, was ap- 
pointed by congress, in connexion with Dr. Franklin and Samuel 
Chase, on a commission to proceed to Canada, to persuade the 
people of that province to relinquish their allegiance to the crown 
of England, and unite with the Americans in their struggle for 
independence. In the discharge of their duties, the commissioners 
met with unexpected difliculties. The defeat and death of Mont- 
gomery, together with the compulsion which the American troops 
found it necessary to exercise, in obtaining the means of support 
in that province, conspired to diminish the ardor of the Canadians 
in favor of a union with the colonies, and even, at length, to ren- 
der them hostile to the measure. To conciliate their affections. 



524 CHARLES CARKOLL. 

and to bring to a favorable result the object of their mission, the 
commissioners employed their utmost ingenuity and influence. — 
They issued their proclamations, in which they assured the people 
of the disposition of congress to remedy the temporary evils which 
the inhabitants suffered in consequence of the presence of the 
American troops, so soon as it should be in their power to provide 
specie, and clothing, and provisions. A strong tide, however, was 
setting against the American colonies, the strength of which was 
much increased by the Roman Catholic priests, who, as a body, 
had always been opposed to any connexion with the united colo- 
nics. Despairing of accomplishing the wishes of congress, the 
commissioners at length abandoned the object and returned. 

The great object of independence was at this time undergoing 
a discussion in the hall of congress. It has been ajready noticed, 
that the Maryland delegation, in that body, had been instructed 
bv their convention, to refuse their assent to a declaration of inde- 
pendence. On returning to Maryland, Mr. Carroll resumed his 
seat in the convention, and with the advocates of a declaration of 
independence, urged the withdrawal of the above instructions, and 
the granting of power to their delegates to unite in such a decla- 
ration. The friends of the measure had at length the happiness, 
on the 28th of June, of procuring a new set of instructions, which 
secured the vote of the important province of Maryland in favor 
of the independence of America. 

On the same day in which the great question was decided in 
congress, in favor of a declaration of independence, Mr. Carroll 
was elected a delegate to that body from Maryland, and accor- 
dingly took his seat on the eighteenth of the same month. 

Although not a member of congress at the time the question of 
a declaration of independence was settled, Mr. Carroll had the 
honor of greatly contributing to a measure so auspicious to the 
interests of his country, by assisting in procuring the withdrawal 
of the prohibiting instructions, and the adoption of a new set, by 
which the Maryland delegates found themselves authorised to 
vote for independence. He had the honor also, of affixing his 
signature to the declaration on the second of August; at which 
time the members generally signed an engrossed copy, which had 
been prepared for that purpose. From the printed journals of 



CHARLES CARROLL. 525 

congress, it would appear that the declaration was signed on the 
fourth of July, the same day on which the final question was taken. 
This is an error. The declaration, as first published, had only 
the name of Hancock aflSxed to it ; and it was only on the nine- 
teenth of July that a resolution was adopted, directing the decla- 
tion to be engrossed on parchment, with a view to a general 
signature on the part of the members. 

The truth of this statement may be inferred from the following 
letter, addressed by Mr. secretary Adams, to Mr. Carroll, on the 
twenty -fourth of June, 1824 : 

"Sir — In pursuance of a joint resolution of the two houses of 
congress, a copy of which is hereto annexed, and by direction of 
the president of the United States, I have the honor of transmitting 
to you two fac simile copies of the original declaration of inde- 
pendence, engrossed on parchment, conformably to a secret reso- 
lution of congress of nineteenth of July, 1776, to be signed by 
every member of congress, and accordingly signed on the second 
day of August of the same year. Of this document, unparalleled 
in the annals of mankind, the original deposited in this department, 
exhibits your name as one of the subscribers. The rolls herewith 
transmitted, are copies as exact as the art of engraving can pre- 
sent, of the instrument itself, as well as of the signatures to it. 

"While performing the duty thus assigned me, permit me to fe- 
licitate you, and the country, which is reaping the reward of your 
labors, as well that your hand was affixed to this record of glory, 
as that, after the lapse of near half a century, you survive to re- 
ceive this tribute of reverence and gratitude, from your children, 
the present fathers of the land. 

"With every sentiment of veneration, I have the honor," &c. 

A signature to the declaration, was an important step for every 
individual member of congress. It exposed the signers of it to 
the confiscation of their estates, and the loss of life, should the 
British arms prove victorious. Few men had more at stake in re- 
spect to property than Mr. Carroll, he being considered the richest 
individual in the colonies. But wealth was of secondary value 
in his estimation, in comparison with the rights and liberties of his 
country. When asked whether he would annex his name, he re- 
plied "most willingly," and seizing a pen, instantly subscribed "to 
45* 



526 JOHN WITHERSPOON. 

this record of glory." "There go a few millions," said some one 
who watched the pen as it traced the name of "Charles Carroll, of 
Carrollton," on the parchment. Millions would indeed have gone, 
for his fortune was princely, had not success crowned the Amer- 
ican arms, in the long fought contest. 

Mr. Carroll was continued a member of congress until 1778, at 
which time he resigned his seat in that body, and devoted himself 
more particularly to the interests of his native state. He had served 
in her convention in 1776, in the latter part of which year he had 
assisted in drafting her constitution. Soon after, the new consti- 
tution went into operation, and Mr. Carroll was chosen a member 
of the senate of Maryland. In 1781, he was re-elected to the 
same station, and in 1788, on the adoption of the federal constitu- 
tion, was chosen to the senate of the United States. 

la 1791, Mr. Carroll relinquished his seat in the national senate, 
and was again called to the senate of his native state. This office 
he continued to hold until 1804, at which time the democratic party 
was successful in electing their candidate, to the exclusion of this 
long tried and faithful patriot. At this time, Mr. Carroll took leave 
of public life, and sought in retirement the quiet enjoyment of his 
family circle. 

Since the date of his retirement from public office, fevf incidents 
have occurred in the life of this worthy man which demand par- 
ticular notice. Like a peaceful stream, his days glided along, and 
continued to be lengthened out, while the generation of illustrious 
.men, with whom he acted on the memorable fourth of July, 1776, 
had all descended to the tomb. On the 14thday of November, 1833, 
this last survivor of the signers of the declaration of independence, 
sunk under the weight of old age, in the ninety-sixth year of his 
eventful life. 



JOHN WITHERSPOON. 

Tins venerable gentleman, who was emmently distinguished for 
his piety, learning, and a strong and powerful mind, as a divine, a 
president of a seminary of learning, and a statesman ; and whose 
name stands enrolled among those vv^ho signed the declaration of 
American independence, was born at Yester, a parish in the vicin- 
ity of Edinburg, in Scotland, on the 5th day of February, 1722. 



JOHN WITHERSPOOIV. 527 

He was lineally descended from the celebrated John Knox, the 
great and intrepid leader of the reformation in Scotland. His fa. 
ther was a respectable minister in the church of Scotland, settled 
in the parish of Tester ; and was much respected and beloved by 
the people of his pastoral charge. He as might have been ex- 
pected from such a father, bestowed much care and watchful at- 
tention upon the early instruction of his son, to pre-occupy his 
infant mind with moral and religious impressions, before it should 
be engrossed with those of an opposite character. Being con- 
vinced that it is much easier, by beginning right, to impress the in- 
fant mind with right principles, as fast as it opens to receive them, 
and thus shut out wrong ones, than it is to eradicate the latter, af- 
ter they have obtained admission through neglect. And he was 
not disappointed. It was his early wish that his son might be fit- 
ted for the gospel ministry; and he was gratified in eventually 
realizing the object of his wishes. For this care and wisdom of 
his father in choice of the object, for which he wished to educate 
his son, and the fidelity with which he attended to its accomplish- 
ment, doctor Witherspoon felt, and often expressed a pious grati- 
tude towards his venerable parent. 

At an early age he was placed at the public school in Hadding- 
ton, where he soon was distinguished for his assiduous application 
to study, for his superior native powers of mind, and uncommon 
attainment in learning. Nor was he less distinguished for a dis- 
criminating power and quickness of perception, which comprehen- 
ded, whatever subject engaged his attention. With such native 
talents, thus faithfully improved, he was prepared for an early 
transfer from the preparatory academic school to the higher sem- 
inary, where he was to finish his literary course ; qualified to com- 
mence his professional studies. He was removed from Hadding- 
ton school to the university of Edinburg, at fourteen years of age. 
There great credit was awarded him, for his diligence and attain- 
ments in the various branches of learning, taught in that eminent 
seat of science j and at an early stage of his theological studies, 
he gave indications of talents in sacred criticism, which character- 
ised him in all his future life. He prosecuted his professional 
course in the theological hall at the university, and left it at twen- 
ty-one years of age, a licensed preacher of the gospel. 



528 JOHN WITHERSPOON. 

Such was the esteem in which he w^s held in the place of his 
nativity, that the people of his father's parish invited him to settle 
with them as an assistant minister with him, stipulating for the right 
to succeed him in the charge after his father's decease. But hav- 
ing received another invitation from the west of Scotland, to settle 
in the parish of Beith, he gave the latter his preference ; and was 
ordained there, with the universal approbation of that congrega- 
tion. In Beith he labored faithfully in the ministry several years, 
enjoying the esteem and affections of a grateful and attentive 
people. 

When the battle of Falkirk was fought, he with several others, 
had the curiosity to be present, that they might witness the contest. 
Although they were near the scene of action, they took no part in 
the contest; but, after the victory was decided in favor of the 
rebels, these persons paid rather a dear price for gratifying their 
curiosity. They were taken prisoners, and confined in the castle 
of Doune. Several of them effected an escape at a great risk of 
their lives. One lost his life in consequence of the attempt; but 
doctor Witherspoon seeing the disaster of his companion in the at- 
tempt, being the last of the number, concluded to remain till regu- 
larly liberated. 

After attending faithfully to the duties of his ministry at Beith, 
for several years, he was transferred to the large manufacturing 
town of Paisley. He resided there, ministering to an affectionate 
people, and enjoying the respect and esteem of the surrounding 
country ; when an application was made to him to come to America, 
and take the presidency of the college of New-Jersey. While he 
resided in Paisley he was invited to Dublin, in Ireland ; to Dundee, 
in Scotland; and to Rotterdam, in Holland; to take the pastoral 
charge of a large congregation in each of those places, besides 
the application from the board of directors of New- Jersey college. 
But he declined them all. To the latter he was invited in 1766, 
by an unanimous vote of the trustees of the institution, and was 
informed of it by Richard Stockton, Esq. who was then in Lon- 
don. The trustees addressed a letter to Mr. Stockton, requesting 
him to visit Paisley, and personally inform doctor Witherspoon of 
their request, and solicit his acceptance of the appointment. Lit- 
tle did either of them anticipate at that time, that they would be- 



JOHN WITKERSPCOJV. 520 

come colleague . members of the American congress, and' act 
together in declaring the independence of the American colonies, 
and setting their names, side by side, on the instrument by which 
that act was proclaimed to the world. Yet that event occurred in 
ten years from that date. Doctor Witherspoou declined this ap- 
plication for two reasons. There were considerations respecting 
the then existing condition of the college, which decided him to 
give a negative reply to the application. But Mrs. Witherspocn 
felt an unwillingness to leave the land of her nativity, and the re- 
sidence of her connexions, and this strengthened and confirmed his 
decision at that time. Happily, however, both of these impedi- 
ments in the way of his acceptance were removed, at a subsequent 
and no very distant period. Despairing of obtaining him, the 
trustees, about two months previous to their being informed by 
Mr. Stockton, that the obstacles of doctor Witherspoon's acceptance 
were removed, had made choice of doctor Samuel Blair; but they 
immediately re-elected doctor Witherspoon ; and doctor Blair, on 
being informed that doctor Witherspoon would now accept, imme- 
diately tendered his resignation. By that noble act of generosity 
and disinterestedness of doctor Blair, the trustees were relieved 
from the perplexing embarrassment, and the services of doctor 
Witherspoon were secured to the seminary, to the great gratifica- 
tion of its friends and patrons. 

Doctor Witherspoon arrived at Princeton in August, \1Q8, ac- 
companied by his family. On his arrival being announced, a 
special meeting of the board of trustees was called, which met on 
tlie seventeenth day of that month and inaugurated him as presi- 
dent of Princeton college. For some time previous to his arrival, 
the reputation of that college, once justly high, had been on the 
wane. His entering on his office as president marked a new era 
in its prosperity. His reputation had been widely diffused before 
he left Scotland, and had given rise to high anticipations in this 
country. On his arrival and taking upon himself the charge of 
presiding over its interests, the effect in the country to revive its 
prosperity, was almost immediately beneficial. The number of 
students who sought instruction in that college increased rapidly. 
He brought with him, and incorporated in the system of instruc- 
tion, now revised, all the recent improvements that had taken 



530 JOHN WITHERSPC^ON. % 

place in the older seminaries of Great Britain, so far as was prac- 
ticable in that comparatively feeble and infant institution. Indeed 
bis acceptance of the presidency of Princeton college, conferred 
an important benefit on the cause of literature and science in 
America. Immediately after he entered on the duties of his of- 
fice, the party feuds and dissentions that had existed in the board 
of trustees, by his influence and prudence, speedily subsided.-^ 
The funds of the college, which were in a low condition, and still 
sinking, were in a short time augmented by the active exertions 
made use of in various parts of the country ; and the province of 
New-Jersey, which had done nothing for the benefit of the institu- 
tion previously to that time, was induced to lend some aid in pro- 
moting its prosperity. But his learning and his judicious and ad- 
vantageous system of managing the establishment, were not 
anjong the greatest advantages resulting from the accession of Dr. . 
Wisherspoon to the presidency. Although the study of theology 
had occupied much of his time and attention, that he might be 
thoroughly furnished for a -faithful discharge of the duties of his 
pastoral office, yet he was far from limiting his reading to works 
on theology. Sensible that a knowledge of every valuable science 
would contribute and enlarge the sphere of his usefulness to man- 
kind, he applied himself to other branches of science, and became 
possessed of a knowledge of almost every subject embraced in 
the circle of the sciences. He was well informed respecting the 
grounds of the controversy between Great Britain and her Amer- 
ican colonies ; and early after his arrival in this country, became a 
decided advocate of the latter. Hence, when the college at 
Princeton was broken up by the incursions of the enemy, the citi- 
zens of New-Jersey turned their attention to him to represent 
them in the general congress. By an election to a seat in that 
council of the nation, he was called to exercise his talents on a 
new theatre, where the variety of his learning and the vigorous 
powers of his mind were so happily displayed as to gather fresh 
lustre to his already extended reputation. 

He was called by the citizens of New-Jersey, to assist them in 
framing a new constitution of government for that state, in 1776. 
When he appeared in that body, and exhibited his knowledge of 
legislative science, those present who had made politics the object 



■f 

JOHN WITHERSPOOX. 531 

of their principal researches, were not a little surprised at the 
readiness and intelligence with which he investigated every sub- 
ject which was discussed in that convention. 

He was chosen a delegate to the general congress, on the twen- 
ty-first of June, 1776', by the provincial congress of New-Jersey; 
and he took his seat in that body, a few days before the fourth of 
July, the memorable birth day of the American nation. He had 
deliberated on the great question which was then to be settled 
forever, in domestic retirement; and when he was introduced, to 
take a part in the discussion of congress, on that important subject, 
he at once gave evidence of his preparation. 

Before his election, he had taken an active and decided part iri 
the conventions, and revolutionary committees of New-Jersey ; 
and had manifested his superior qualifications to' conduct the in- 
terests of the state in a higher station. 

The maturity and decision of his judgment, on the great quer^- 
tion of the independence of this nation, is shown in the laconic re- 
ply he gave to a remark made by a distinguished member of con- 
gress, "That the people were not ripe for a Declaration of Inde- 
pendence:" Dr. Wi'therspoon observed, "In my judgment, sir, we 
are not only ripe, but rotting." 

Doctor Witherspoon was continued a representative of New- 
Jers<iy, in congress, during the years 1776, 1777, 1778, 1779, 
1781 and 1782. He was so constantly attentive to his duties, that 
it was a very unusual fact that he was absent from his seat, dur- 
ing the whole period of his appointment, for a single day. And 
he regarded the importance of sustaining his ministerial character 
in such a prominent point of view, that he never consented to 
substitute his clerical dress, for another more consonant with civil 
employment. This was done by some ministers ^vho were also 
members of that body. But he considered it correct for himself, 
always to appear, wherever he might be, and however employed, 
in the insignia of his professional character, and strictly adhered 
to his views of propriet)^ It is proper in this place to remark, 
that he never, during his civil employments, lost sight of his min- 
isterial duties, but embraced every opportunity that presented, for 
preaching the gospel to liis fellow men. 
It is deemed needless to specify particularly the various servi- 



r 



532 JOHN WITHEESPOON. 

ces, which he rendered as a member of congress. It is well 
known, that most of the important business transacted in that 
body, was submitted to special committees, to investigate, and re- 
port their views to the house. The superior intelligence of Dr. 
Witherspoon on all the great subjects to be decided by congress, 
presented him- as a member pre-eminently qualified to be placed 
on most committees of great responsibility. His services were 
incessant and unremitted : and they were also of immense advan- 
tage to the cause of the country's liberty and independence. 

He took a firm stand in opposition to the ruinous system of 
emitting a paper currency, after its excess had caused a consider- 
able depreciation in its value. In communicating his views on 
that subject, which he maintained consistently to the end, he aston- 
ished his contemporaries by the extent of his financial knowledge, 
and minute and particular acquaintance with that intricate science. 
He also opposed the wasteful system which had been adopted, for 
supplying the continental army, by allow-ing a commission to the 
contractors, on all moneys they paid out, instead of the system of 
forming special contracts, which he advocated, and which has 
since been adopted. 

In debating, his usual practice was to listen attentively to the 
remarks of others; take minutes of what he wished to notice par- 
ticularly; compose his speech ; commit it to memory, which %e did 
with much facility ; and when he appeared on the floor, he began 
with an exordium, in which he disposed of what had just been de- 
livered, and then proceeded with his prepared speech, with so 
much regularity in noticing the several points brought forward in 
the course of the debate, in such regular order, and with so much 
force of argument, as both surprised and delighted those who heard 
him. His mind was quick in apprehending, and his memory pow- 
erful in retaining, what he read or heard. It was so much so, 
that his common method of preparing for the desk was to compose 
his sermon, read it over three times only, leave his manuscript at 
home, and go and address his audience from memory. 

While he was a member of congress, he acted a conspicuous 
part in the board of war and the board of finance. He was also 
one of a commission appointed by congress, on a request from 
New-York and New-Hampshire, to repair to Vermont, and adjust, 



jeHN WITHERSPOON. 533 

if practicable, the disputes whicli had arisen with the settlers 
on the Green Mountains ; the jurisdiction over which was claimed 
by both of these states, and disallowed by the settlers. The duty 
assigned him he performed; but it was without the desired result- 
nor was it finally settled until Vermont was acknowledged as an 
independent state, and became united to the confederacy. 

Doctor Witherspoon voluntarily retired from congress at the 
close of- the year 1779, although he was again called upon to re- 
new his important labors in that assembly. At the time of his 
retirement, he applied himself to the object of reviving the insti- 
tution over which he presided, which had fallen into decay durin'^- 
the British invasion of New-Jersey. The more active part of 
recommencing the course of instruction was committed to his son- 
in-law, vice president Smith; while he sought some relaxation in 
a retirement to his own country seat, about a mile from the col- 
lege. But the influence of his name and character, in connexion 
with the college, wasnnot withdrawn, but was continued to be felt 
with a benign effect on its reviving prosperity ; and its former rep- 
utation was soon restored. 

Soon after the preliminaries of peace were settled between the 
United States and Great Britain, in 1783, on the urgent request 
of the trustees of that college, but contrary to his own judgment, 
he crossed the Atlantic to England, to try to obtain funds in behalf 
of that seminary, in the country from which it had just been sev- 
ered forever; and while the feeling of resentment was still warm 
in England on that account. He predicted that the enterprise 
would probably prove unsuccessful : and thus it did in fact prove. 
He obtained but little more than sufficient to defray the expenses 
of the visit. On this excursion he was absent about nine months. 
On his return to New-Jersey, he immediately entered upon his re- 
tirement, in which he spent the remainder of his life, as far as 
was consistent with the duties he was required to perform to the 
college, by reason of his office of president, and those belonging 
to his ministerial profession. 

If Dr. Witherspoon is viewed as a composer of sermons, he 

must be placed among the first rank of orthodox divines, in this or 

any other country. His sermons published in his works, in four 

volumes 8vo, are alone sufficient to confiirm this opinion. But the 

46 



534 JOHN WITHEESFOON, 

public voice has already decided this ^s his character; and it is 
believed that no judicious person, who reads his works, will dis- 
sent from the judgment of the public in this particular. 

His manner in the pulpit was grave, solemn, and deeply im- 
pressive. He engaged the attention of his audience at the begin- 
ninof of his sermon, and it was continued unabated to the end. — 
He was for some years occasionally subject to spasmodic convul- 
sion fits, which were supposed to be of the apoplectic kind ; and 
these were connected with a peculiar nervous sensibility, and a 
dizziness, which were apt to be produced if he yielded to that ar- 
dency of manner, to which his natural warmth of feeling strongly 
urged him. But having been subject to that calamity from an 
early period of life, he found it indispensable to his own safety, 
to adopt a grave, solemn manner of delivery, in his public ad- 
dresses, and carefully to discipline his natural ardor into a more 
safe and moderate manner. It was difficult to hear him without 
being instructed and benefitted by his discourses. He possessed 
a strength of thought, and a force of expression, happily adapted 
to usefulness in a preacher of the gospel, rarely equalled, and still 
more rarely surpassed. 

About two years before his decease, he lost his eyesight; but 
this affliction did not make him relinquish his ministerial duties. 
After he was unable to see his own way, he was often conducted 
into the pulpit by the hand of another, both at home and abroad. 
And when there, standing in the presence of Him who is the God 
of the sanctuary, with his own eyes shut in perpetual darkness, 
and precluded from the light of the sun, he presented to the be- 
holders one of the most impressive scenes imaginable. A vener- 
able minister of the gospel, more than seventy years of age, him- 
self blind, addressing to an assembly of accountable beings, the 
message of their Creator and Judge, concerning the most weighty 
subject that can be imagined, with a feeling of deep and tender 
concern for their welfare, with unabated earnestness, and with 
the gi'ave solemnity of one who stood on the verge of eternity, 
hastening to finish his work, and preparing to give an account of 
his stewardship. If any combination of circumstances could pro- 
duce salutary impressions on the heart, we might naturally look 
for them in a case like that just mentioned. 



JOHN WITHERSPOON. 535 

As a writer, Dv. Witherspoon possessed a great versatility of 
talent, which he could successfully apply to any subject he chose 
to handle. His talent for wit and satire was almost unrivalled; 
a weapon which he knew how to apply with irresistible force 
against an antagonist. Perhaps these remarks were never more 
fully verified, than in his "Ecclesiastical Characteristics." He 
could, on a proper occasion, exercise his pen with the ease and 
graceful pleasantry of Addison. He possessed a gigantic mind : 
he wrote and published on many subjects ; and on each he gave 
the impress of his powerful intellect. 

His essay on the "Nature, value, and uses of Money," is ac- 
knowledged as one of the best that ever appeared in this country, 
and produced a happy influence on the minds of the community 
on that intricate subject. Indeed, he never composed an essay 
for publication, without he had something important to communi- 
cate; and he never published his views, without producing a good 
etTect on the minds of his reader;". 

His "Serious enquiry into the nature and effects of the Stage," 
evinces a thorough acquaintance with the subject, a minute in- 
Tcstigation of its influence and consequences on society, and a 
deep and intimate knowledge of the human heart. But among 
iiis work?, those on theological subjects held the pre-eminence; 
and of these may be selected, as among the happiest of his efforts, 
his essay on "Justification by free grace, through Jesus Christ;" 
and on the "Nature and necessity of Regeneration ;" and that on 
the "Importance of Truth in Religion;" and one on the connexion" 
that subsists "betw^een sound principle and a holy practice. These 
several productions are not surpassed by any writings on those 
subjects, hitherto published in the English language. 

As a manager in civil and ecclesiastical politics, he was emi- 
nently skilful, wise, and successful. This he evinced before he 
left his native country, in the controversy between "moderate" 
and "orthodox" parties, in which that branch of the Scottish church 
Was divided, and which called forth the "Ecclesiastical Character- 
istics" before mentioned. Although for a time he was in the 
minority, by his address and prudent management, without resort- 
ing to any unworthy or improper measures, he succeeded in ob- 
taining a majority to co-operate with him, and in securing a com- 



536 JOHN WITHEKSPOON. 

plete triumph to the cause which he believed to be just; in which 
belief many of the wisest and most upright of the ministers and 
dignitaries of the English church fully concurred. In the Pres- 
byterian church of the United States, his character and influence 
were justly held in high respect and estimation. In their judica- 
tories he was eminently useful, by his knowledge of the general 
subjects which came before them, by his acquaintance with the 
correct rules of conducting them, and the facility with which he 
disentangled the intricacies and embarrassments with which they 
were sometimes surrounded. "He was clear and conclusive in 
reasoning; and, from a peculiar soundness of judgment, and a 
habit of business, skilful in conducting every discussion to the 
most speedy and decisive termination." And when he v;as taken 
away by death, it might have been said with truth, that a great 
man had fallen. 

At length, bodily infirmities, which had been creeping upon him 
for years, and gradually undermining his constitution, attacked 
him with an accumulated force, which was increased by the loss 
of his sight. His regular bodily exercise, was by this affliction^ 
necessarily greatly diminished, by reason of which his health suf- 
fered, and it was apparent that his useful life was fast approach- 
ing to a close. He endured his sufferings with a patience and 
cheerfulness becoming the character of a christian minister, when 
called to exemplify the gospel he had preached to others, in the 
closing scene of life. He was released from his labors, trials and 
sufferings, on the fifteenth day of November, 1794, in the seventy- 
third year of his age. 

Dr. Witherspoon was twice married. His first wife was a Scot- 
tish lady, a Miss Montgomery, to whom he was united in early life. 
She was a pious, benevolent, exemplary christian. 

His posterity (all by his first marriage,) consisted of three sons 
and two daughters. Ann, the eldest, was married to the Reverend 
Samuel Stanhope Smith, his successor in the presidency of the- 
college. Frances was married to Dr. David Ramsay, of Charles- 
ton, South Carolina, the historian of the American revolution. — 
Her interesting memoirs, written by her husband, have been ex- 
tensively read and admired by the pious, throughout the United 
States. 



JOHN HANCOCK. 537 

The following epitaph is inscribed on the marble which covers 
his remains: 

"Beneath this marble, lie interred the mortal remains of John 
VViTHERSPOON, D. D. LL. D. a venerable and beloved President 
of the College of New-Jersey. He was born in the parish of 
Yester, in Scotland, on the 5th of February, 1722, O. S. and was 
liberally educated in the University of Edinburg; invested with 
holy orders in the year 1743, he faithfully performed the duties of 
his pastoral charge, during five and twenty years, first at Beith and 
then at Paisley. Elected president at Nassau Hall, he assumed the 
duties of that office on the 13th of August, 1768, with the elevated 
expectations of the public. Excelling in every mental gift, he was 
a man of pre-eminent piety and virtue, and deeply versed in the 
various branches of literature and the liberal arts. A grave and 
solemn preacher, his sermons abounded in the most excellent doc- 
trines and precepts, and in lucid expositions of the Holy Scrip- 
tures. Affable, pleasant, and courteous in familiar conversation, 
he was eminently distinguished in concerns and deliberations of 
the church, and endowed with the greatest prudence in the man- 
agement and instruction of youth. He exalted the reputation of 
the college amongst foreigners, and greatly promoted the advance- 
ment of its literary character and taste. He was, for a long time, 
conspicuous among the most brilliant luminaries of learning and" 
of the Church. At length, universally venerated, beloved, and 
lamented, he departed this life on the fifteenth of November, 
MDCCXCIV, aged LXXIII years. 



'4^ 



JOHN HANCOCK. 
This gentleman, who made a conspicuous figure in the period 
which preceded the revolutionary struggle, by which the American 
colonies were severed from the mother country, and whose name 
stands first on the list of signers of the declaration of indepen- 
dence — vvas born in the year 1737, near the village of Quincy, in 
the province of Massachusetts bay. The spot on which his pater- 
nal residence stood, constitutes a part of the estate of the first pre- 
sident Adams. 

Both his grandfather and his father were ministers of the gos- 
pel. The first settled and continued for near half a century in 
46* 



538 JOHN HAJVCOCK. 

Lexington, the town celebrated for the scene of the first enter- 
prise of the British troops, and the commencement of open lios- 
tilities with this country. His father, John Hancock, seems to 
have been a laborious, faithful, pious minister ; a friend of learning, 
and a patron of the literary institutions of the province which gave 
him birth. His early decease, which occurred during the infancy 
of the subject of this memoir, left his son under the care of an 
uncle, who was an enterprising and successful merchant, and had 
risen to weaUh and eminence among the merchants of New-En- 
gland. This affectionate relative took the charge of his nephew's 
education, and sent him to Harvard college, where he graduated in 
1754, at the age of seventeen years. It is not known that he was 
distinguished among his contemporaries at college for any thing 
remarkable in his application to study, or in the brilliance of his 
genius. 

Soon after he closed his collegiate life, his uncle entered him as 
a clerk in his own counting house, and during the period of three 
years, his attainments in the knowledge of his business were such, 
that in the year 1700, he sent him to England. During his resi- 
dence there, the death of George II. and the accession of George 
III. occurred. He was present at the funeral of the former, and 
the coronation of the latter. Soon after his return from England, 
he was called to mourn the death of his kind and benevolent patron. 
This event left him, at the age of twenty-seven years, in posses- 
sion of one of the largest estates within the province of Massa- 
chusetts. 

To a young man, only twenty-seven, this sudden possession of 
wealth was full of danger; and to not a few would have proved 
their ruin. But Hancock became neither giddy, arrogant, nor pro- 
fligate : and he continued his former course of regularity, industry, 
and moderation. Many depended upon him, as they had done 
upon his uncle, for employment. To these he was kind and lib- 
eral ; while in his more extended and complicated commercial 
transactions, he maintained a high reputation for honor and in- 
tegrity. 

The possession of wealth, added to the upright and honorable 
character which he sustained, naturally gave him influence in the 
community, and rendered him even popular. In 1769, he was 



JOHN HAXCOCK. 539 

placed by the suffrages of his fellow-citizens, in the legislature of 
Massachusetts, and this event seems to have given a direction to 
his future career. 

He thus became associated with such individuals as Otis, Gush- 
ing, and Samuel Adams, men of great political distinction, acute 
discrimination, and patriotic feeling. In such an atmosphere, the 
genius of Hancock brightened rapidly, and he soon became con- 
spicuous among his distinguished colleagues. It has indeed, been 
asserted, that in force of genius, he was inferior to many of his 
contemporaries ; but honorable testimony was given, both to the 
purity of his principles, and the excellence of his abilities, by his 
frequent nomination to committees, whose deliberations deeply in- 
volved the welfare of the community. 

The arrival of a vessel belonging to Mr. Hancock, in the year 
1768, which was said to be loaded contrary to the revenue laws, 
has already been noticed in our introduction. This vessel was 
seized by the custom-house officers, and placed under the guns of 
the Romney, at that time in the harbor, for security. The seizure 
of this vessel greatly exasperated the people ; in their excitement, 
they assaulted the revenue officers with violence, and compelled 
them to seek their safety onboard the armed vessel, or in a neigh- 
boring castle. The boat of the collector was destroyed, and sev- 
eral houses belonging to his partisans were razed to their foun- 
dation. 

In these proceedings, Mr. Hancock himself was in no wise en- 
gaged ; and he probably condemned them as rash and unwarranta- 
ble. But the transaction contributed greatly to bring him into 
notice, and to increase his popularity. 

This, and several similar occurrences, served as a pretext to the 
governor to introduce into Boston, not long after, several regiments 
of British troops J a measure which was fitted more than all others 
to irritate the inhabitants. Frequent collisions, as might be ex- 
pected, soon happened between the soldiers and the citizens, the 
former of whom were insolent, and the latter independent. These 
contentions not long after broke out into acts of violence. An un- 
happy instance of this violence occurred on the evening of the 5th 
of March, 1770, at which time, a small party of British soldiers 
was assailed bv several of the citizens, with balls of snow, and 



540 JOHK HANCOCK. 

Other weapons. The citizens were fired upon by order of the com- 
manding officer: a few were killed, and several others were 
wounded. 

Although the provocation, in this instance, was given by the 
citizens, the whole town was simultaneously aroused to seek redress. 
At the instigation of Samuel Adams, and Mr. Hancock, an assem- 
bly of the citizens was convened the following day, and these two 
gentlemen, with some others, were appointed a committee to de- 
mand of the governor the removal of the troops. Of this com- 
mittee, Mr. Hancock was the chairman, 

A few days after the above affray, which is usually termed "the 
Boston massacre," the bodies of the slain were buried with suita- 
ble demonstrations of public grief. In commemoration of the event, 
Mr. Hancock was appointed to deliver an address. After speak- 
ing of his attachment to a righteous government, and of his enmity 
to tyranny, he proceeded in the following animated strain : "the 
town of Boston, ever faithful to the British crown, has been inves- 
ted by a British fleet; the troops of George III. have crossed the 
Atlantic, not to engage an enemy, but to assist a band of traitors 
in trampling on the rights and liberties of his most loyal subjects; 
those rights and liberties, which, as a father, he ought ever to re- 
gard, and as a king, he is bound in honor to defend from violation, 
even at the risk of his own life. 

"These troops, upon their first arrival, took possession of our 
senate house, pointed their cannon against the judgment hall, and 
even continued them there, whilst the supreme court of the pro- 
vince was actually sitting to decide upon the lives and fortunes of 
the king's subjects. Our streets nightly resounded with the noise 
of their riot and debauchery; our peaceful citizens were hourly 
exposed to shameful insults, and often felt the effects of their vio- 
lence and outrage. But this was not all ; as though they thought 
it not enough to violate our civil rights, they endeavored to deprive 
us of the enjoyment of our religious privileges ; to vitiate our mor- 
als, and thereby render us deserving of destruction. Hence 
the rude din of arms, which broke in upon your solemn devotion 
in your temples, on that day hallowed by heaven, and set apart by 
God himself for his peculiar worship. Hence, impious oaths and 
blasphemies, so often tortured your unaccustomed ear. Hence, 



JOHN HANCOCK. 541 

all the arts which idleness and luxury could invent, were used to 
betray our youth of one sex into extravagance and effeminacy, 
and of the other to infamy and ruin ; and have they not succeeded 
but too well ? Has not a reverence for religion sensibly decayed ? 
Have notour infants almost learned to lisp curses before they knew 
their horrid import? Have not our youth forgotten they were 
Americans, and regardless of the admonitions of the wise and a^cd, 
copied, with a servile imitation, the frivolity and vices of their ty- 
rants? And must I be compelled to acknowledge, that even the 
noblest, fairest part of all creation, have not entirely escaped their 
cruel snares? — or why have I seen an honest tather clothed with 
shame; why a virtuous mother drowned in tears? 

"But I forbear, and come reluctantly to the transactions of that 
dismal night, when in such quick succession wc felt the extreme 
of grief, astonishment and rage ; and when heaven in anger, for 
a dreadful moment suffered hell to take the reins; when satan, 
with his chosen band, opened the sluices of New-England's blood, 
and sacrilegiously polluted our land with the dead bodies of her 
guiltless sons. 

"Let this sad tale of death never be told, without a tear; let not 
the heaving bosom cease to burn with a manly indignation at the 
relation of it, through the long track of future time; let every 
parent tell the shameful story to his listening children, till tears of 
pity glisten in their eyes, or boiling passion shake their tender 
frames. * 

"Dark and designing knaves, murderers, parricides ! How dare 
you tread upon the earth, which has drunk the blood of slaugh- 
tered innocence shed by your hand ! How dare you breathe that 
air, which wafted to the ear of heaven the groans of those who 
fell a sacrifice to your accursed ambition?— But if the laboring 
earth doth not expand her jaws; if the air you breathe is not com- 
missioned to be the minister of death ; yet hear it and tremble ! 
The eye of heaven penetrates the darkest chambers of the soul; 
and you, though screened from human observation, must be ar- 
raigned, must lift your hands, red with the blood of those whose 
death you have procured, at the tremendous bar of God. 

"But I gladly quit this theme of death— I would not dwell too 
long upon the horrid effects, which have already followed, from 



542 JOHN HANCOCK. 

quartering regular troops in this town; let our misfortunes instruct 
posterity to guard against these evils. Standing armies are some- 
times, (I would by no means say generally, much less universal- 
Iv,) composed of persons who have rendered themselves unfit to 
live in civil society; who are equally indifferent to the glory of a 
George, or a Louis; who for the addition of one penny a day to 
their wages, would desert from the Christian cross, and fight un- 
der the crescent of the Turkish sultan ; from such men as these 
w!;at has not a state to fear? With such as these, usurping Csesar 
passed the Rubicon; with such as these, he humbled mighty Rome, 
and forced the mistress of the world to own a master in a traitor. 
These are the men whom sceptred robbers now employ to frus- 
trate the designs of God, and render vain the bounties which his 
gracious hand pours indiscriminately upon his creatures." 

Previously to this address, doubts had been entertained by some, 
as to the perfect patriotism of Mr. Hancock. It was said that the 
governor of the province had, either by studied civilities, or by 
direct overtures, endeavored to attach him to the royal cause. — 
For a time insinuations of this derogatory character were circu- 
lated abroad, highly detrimental to his fame. The manners and 
liabitsof Mr. Hancock had, nota little, contributed to countenance 
the malicious imputations. His fortune was princely. His njan- 
sion displayed the magnificence of a courtier, rather than the 
simplicity of a republican. Gold and silver embroidery adorned 
%is garments, and on public occasions, his carriage and horses, 
and servants in livery, emulated the splendor of the English no- 
bility. The eye of envy saw not this magnificence with indiffer- 
ence ; nor was it strange that reports unfriendly to his patriotic 
integrity should have been circulated abroad ; especially as from 
his wealth and fashionable intercourse, he had more connexion 
with the governor and his party than many others. 

The sentiments, however, expressed by Hancock in the above 
address, were so explicit and so patriotic, as to convince the most 
incredulous; and a renovation of his popularity was the conse- 
quence. 

Hancock, from this time, became as odious to the royal govern- 
or and his adherents, as he was dear to the republican party. It 
now became an object of some importance to the royal governor, 



JOHN HANCOCK. 543 

to get possession of the persons of Mr. Hancock and Samuel Ad- 
ams; and this is said to have been intended in the expedition to 
Concord, which led to the memorable battle of Lexington, the 
opening scene of the revolutionary war. Notwithstanding the 
secrecy with which that expedition was planned, these patriots, 
who were at the time members of the provincial congress at Con- 
cord, fortunately made their escape; but it was only at the mo- 
ment the British troops entered the house where they lodged. — 
Following this battle, governor Gage issued his proclamation, of- 
fering a general pardon to all who should manifest a proper peni- 
tence for their opposition to the royal authority, excepting the 
above two gentlemen, whose guilt placed them beyond the reach 
of the royal clemency. 

In October, 1774, Hancock was unanimously elected to the 
presidential chair of the provincial congress of Massachusetts. — 
The following year, the still higher honor of the presidency of the 
continental congress was conferred upon him. In this body, were 
men of superior genius, and of still greater experience than Han- 
cock. There were Franklin and Jefferson, and Dickinson, and 
many others, men of pre-eminent abilities and superior political 
sagacity; but the recent proclamation of governor Gage, proscrib- 
ing Hancock and Adams, had given those gentlemen great popu- 
larity, and presented a sufficient reason to the continental con- 
gress, to express their respect for them, by the election of the for- 
mer to the presidential chair. 

In this distinguished station Hancock continued till October, 
1777; at which time, in consequence of infirm health, induced 
by an unremitted application to business, he resigned his office, 
and, with a popularity seldom enjoyed by any individual, retired 
to his native province. 

Of the convention, which, about this time, was appointed to 
frame a constitution for the state of Massachusetts, Hancock was 
a member. Under the constitution, in 1780, he was the first gov- 
ernor of the commonwealth, to which office he was annually 
elected, until the year 1785, when he resigned. After an inter- 
val of two years, he was re-elected to the same office, in which he 
was continued to the time of his death, which took place on the 
8th of October, 1793, and in the 55th year of his age. 



544 JOHN HANCOCK. 

Of the character of Mr. Hancock, the Umits which we have 
prescribed to ourselves, will pei*mit us to say but little more. It 
was an honorable trait in that character, that while he possessed a 
superfluity of wealth, to the unrestrained enjoyment of which he 
came at an unguarded period of life, he avoided excessive indul- 
gence and dissipation. His habits, through life, were uniformly 
on the side of virtue. In his disposition and manners, he was kind 
and courteous. He claimed no superiority from his advantages, 
and manifested no arrogance on account of his wealth. 

His enemies accused him of an excessive fondness for popular- 
ity, to which fondness, envy and malice were not backward in as- 
cribing his liberality on various occasions. Whatever may have 
been the justice of such an imputation, many examples of the 
generosity of his character are recorded. Hundreds of families, 
it is said, in times of distress, were daily fed from his munificence. 
In promoting the liberties of his country, no one, perhaps, actual- 
ly expended more wealth, or was willing to make greater sacrifi- 
ces. An instance of his public spirit, in 1775, is recorded, much 
to his praise. 

At that time, the American army was besieging Boston, to ex- 
pel the British, who held possession of the town. To accomplish 
this object, the entire destruction of the city was proposed by the 
American officers. By the execution of such a plan, the Whole 
fortune of Mr. Hancock would have been sacrificed. Yet he im- 
mediately acceded to the measure, declaring his readiness to 'sur- 
render his all, whenever the liberties of his country should re- 
quire it. 

It is not less honorable to the character of Mr. Hancock, that 
while wealth and independence powerfully tempted him to a life 
of indolence, he devoted himself for many years, almost without 
intermission, to the most laborious service of his country. Malev- 
olence, during some periods of his public life, aspersed his char- 
acter, and imputed to him motives of conduct to which he was a 
stranger. Full justice was done to his memory at his death, in 
the expressions of grief and affection which were offered over his 
remains, by the multitudes who thronged l^is house while his body 
lay in state, and who followed his remains to the grave. 



SAJniEL ADA5IS. 645 

SAMUEL ADAMS. 
Samuel Adams, the subject of this memoir, was born in Boston, 
Massachusetts, on the 22d day of September, 1722. The respect- 
able family from which he descended, was among those which 
early emigrated and settled in New-England. His father, during 
many years, held the commission of justice of the peace, and was 
one of the board of selectmen of Boston; and was annually chosen 
a representative of that town, in the Massachusetts house of as- 
sembly, during a long period, under the colonial government. — 
He was possessed of considerable wealth ; and having resolved to 
give his son a public education, he placed him under the tuition 
of Mr. Lovell, at that time a celebrated teacher of a grammar 
school in Boston, to prepare him for admission into Harvard Uni- 
versity. He was received a member of that literary institution at 
an early age, and took his degree of A. B. in 1740; and in two 
years after received his second degree. He was an uncommonly 
sedate youth; and both in the preparatory school, and throughout 
his collegiate term, he was remarkable for his assiduity in attend- 
ing to his studies, and for punctuality in performing his collegiate 
duties. 

The tendency of his reflections at that early age, may be in- 
ferred from the question which he proposed for discussion when 
he took his second degree. It was this : "Whether it be lawful to 
resist the supreme magistrate, if the commonwealth cannot be 
otherwise preserved ?" He adopted and defended the affirmative 
of the proposition ; and in his manner of sustaining it, at that early 
age, evinced a decided attachment to the liberties of the people. 

He also practised a very commendable frugality from earJy 
life; for, being allowed a regular and fixed stipend by his father, 
without incurring the sneers or reproaches of his comrades, he 
saved from his paternal allowance a sum sufficient to defray the 
e.xpense of publishing a pamphlet, entitled "Englishmen's Rights." 
His father intended to have him educated for the profession of 
law. Whether at his own instance, is not known; but it was re- 
linquished by his father, and he was put an apprentice tc Thomas 
Cushing, a respectable merchant of Boston, to qualify him for 
mercantile pursuits. He seems, however, not to have been par- 
tial to that business, for which his feelings were but ill adapted. 
47 ' 



54G SAMUEL ADAMS. 

Politics had engaged his thoughts even before he left college ; and 
to the study of them he devoted much of his attention. For mu- 
tual benefit, he, with several associates possessed of kindred feel- 
ings, formed a club, which often met for political discussion, and 
to furnish each in his turn, an essay to be published in the Inde- 
pendent Advertiser. The general character of these essays may 
be presiimed from the title of the gazette in which they were 
published; and by means of them, the writers, by way of derision, 
incurred the nick-name of "the Whipping Club." 

His father gave him a considerable capital to commence busi- 
ness as a merchant; but having devoted his attention, during his 
apprenticeship, more to politics than to the object of his immediate 
pursuit, he was but indifferently qualified to manage a mercantile 
establishment. His success was, therefore, such as might have 
been anticipated. By imprudence in trusting others with prop- 
erty, and remissness in attending to a business which never much 
engrossed his affections, his affairs soon became embarrassed, and 
at no very distant period, so effectually deranged, that he became 
completely reduced. 

When he was about twenty-five, his father died, and he, being 
the eldest son, was left with the care of the family. On him, also, 
devolved the management of the estate left by his deceased pa- 
rent. His slight attention to business, and his predominating 
regard to politics, but poorly qualified him for a careful discharge 
of the duties which his situation demanded. His attention was 
bestowed continually on the proceedings of the parental govern- 
ment, that he might detect every beginning encroachment on the 
lights of the colonists ; and he employed much time, both in writ- 
ing, and in conversing with others, endeavoring to excite in them 
a similar vigilance. In this he was indefatigable. He was always 
on the popular side. Hence, in a later period, when the aspect 
of the times became more threatening, and the interests of the 
people more endangered by the projects and measures of the Brit- 
ish parliament, he was always put forward by his fellow citizens 
to oppose them, as their prime leader. 

In 1763, it was announced, that the British ministry had in View 
to "tax the colonies, for the purpose of raising a revenue, which 
was to be placed at the disposal of the crown." This news filled 



SAMUEL ADAMS. 5^7 

the colonies with alarm. In Massachusetts, a committee was ap- 
pointed by the people of Boston, to express the public sentiment 
in relation to this contemplated measure, for the guidance of the 
representatives to the general court. The instructions of this 
committee were drawn by Mr. Adams. They formed, in truth, a 
powerful remonstrance against the injustice of the contemplated 
system of taxation ; and they merit the more particular notice, as 
they were the tirst recorded public document, which denied the 
right of taxation to the British parliament. They also contained 
the first suggestion of the propriety of that mutual understanding 
and correspondence among the colonies^ which laid the foundation 
of their future confederacy. In these instructions, after alluding 
to the evils which had resulted from the acts of the British parlia- 
ment relating to trade, Mr. Adams observes— "If our trade may 
be taxed, why not our lands? Why not the produce of our lands, 
and every thing we possess or use? This, we conceive, annihi- 
late? our charter rights to govern and tax ourselves. It strikes 
at our British privileges, which, as we have never forfeited them, 
we hold in common with our fellow subjects who are natives of 
Britain. If taxes are laid upon us in any shape, without our hav- 
ing a legal representation where they are laid, we are reduced 
from the character of free subjects, to the state of tributary slaves. 
We, therefore, earnestly recommend it to you, to use your utmost 
endeavors to obtain from the general court, all necessary advice 
and instruction to our agent, at this most critical juncture." "We 
also desire you to use your endeavors that the other colonies, 
having the same interests and rights with us, may add their weight 
to that of this province, that by the united application of all wiio 
are aggrieved, all may obtain redress." 

The deep interest which Mr. Adams felt and manifested for 
the rights of the colonies, soon brought him into favor with the 
patriotic party. He became a leader in their popular assemblies, 
and was bold in denouncing the unjust acts of the British ministry. 
In 1765, he was elected a representative to the general court of 
Massachusetts, from the town of Boston. From this period, dur- 
ing the whole revolutionary struggle, he was the bold, persevering? 
and efficient supporter of the rights of his oppressed country. — 
As a member of the court, he soon became conspicuous, and was 



548 SAMUEL ADAMS. 

honored with the office of clerk to that body. In the legislature, 
he was characterised for the same activity and boldness which he 
had manifested in the town. He was appointed upon almost eve- 
ry committee, assisted in drawing nearly every report, and exer- 
cised a large share of influence in almost every meeting, which 
had for its object the counteraction of the unjust plans of the ad- 
ministration. 

But it was not in his legislative capacity alone, that Mr. Adams 
exhibited his hostility to the British government, and his regard 
for rational freedom. Several able essays on these subjects were 
published by him; and he was the author of several plans of op- 
posing, more successfully, the unjust designs of the mother coun- 
try. He has the honor of having suggested the first congress at 
New-York, which prepared the way for a continental congress, 
ten years after; and at length for the union and confederacy of the 
colonies. 

The injudicious management of his private affairs, already al- 
luded to, rendered Mr. Adams poor. When this was known in 
England, the partisans of the ministry proposed to bribe him, by 
the gift of some lucrative office. A suggestion of this kind was 
accordingly made to governor Hutchinson, to which he replied m 
a manner highly complimentary to the integrity of Mr. Adams, 
"Such is the obstinacy and inflexible disposition of the man, that 
he never can be conciliated by any office or gift whatever." The 
offer, however, it is reported, was actually made to Mr. Adams, 
but neither the allurements of fortune or power could for a mo- 
ment tempt him to abandon the cause of truth, or to hazard the 
liberties of the people. 

He was indeed poor; but he could be tempted neither by British 
gold, nor by the honors or profits of an office within the gift of 
the royal governor. Such patriotism has not been common in the 
world ; but in America it was to be found in many a bosom, during 
the revolutionary struggle. The knowledge of facts like this, 
greatly diminished the wonder, which has sometimes been ex- 
pressed, that America should have successfully contended with 
Great Britain. Her physical strength was comparatively weak : 
but the moral courage of her statesmen, and her soldiers, was to 
her instead of numbers, of wealth, and fortifications. 



SAMUEL ADAMS. 549 

Allusion has been made, both in our introduction, and in our 
notice of Hancock, to the Boston massacre, in 1770, an event 
which will long remain memorable in the annals of the revolution, 
not only as it was the first instance of bloodshed between the 
British and the Americans, but as it conduced to increase the irri- 
tation, and to widen the breach between the two countries. 

Our limits forbid a more particular account of this tragical af- 
fair; and it is again alluded to only for the purpose of bringing 
more distinctly into view, the intrepid and decisive conduct of 
Samuel Adams on that occasion. 

On the morning following this night of bloodshed, a meeting of 
the citizens of Boston was called. Mingled emotions of horror 
and indignation pervaded the assembly, Samuel Adams first 
arose to address the listening multitude. Few men could har- 
angue a popular assembly with greater energy, or exercise a more 
absolute control over their passions and affections. On that oc- 
casion, a Demosthenes, or a Chatham,, could scarcely have ad- 
dressed the assembled multitude with a more impressive eloquence, 
or have represented in a more just and emphatic manner, the 
fearful crisis to which the afTairsof the colonies were fast tending, 
A committee was unanimously chosen to wait upon governor 
Hutchinson, with a request that the troops might be immediately 
removed from the town. To the request of this committee the 
governor, with his usual prevarication, replied, that the troops 
were not subject to his order. Mr. Adams, who was one of this 
committee, strongly represented to the governor the danger of re- 
taining the troops longer in the capital. His indignation was 
aroused, and in a tone of lofty independence, he declared, that the 
removal of the troops would alone satisfy his insulted and indig- 
nant townsmen; it was, therefore, at the governor's peril, tbatthey 
were continued in the town, and that he alone must be ai^swerable 
for the fatal consequences, which it required no gift 0: prophecy 
to predict must ensue. / 

It was now dark. The meeting of the citizen/was still undis- 
solved. The greatest anxiety pervaded the as^mbly, and scarce- 
ly were they restrained from going in a bg^'y to the governor, to 
learn his determination. Aware of the P^tical posture of affairs, 
aware of the personal hazard which he encountered by refusing 
47* 



550 SAMUEL ADAMS. 

a compliance, the governor at length gave his consent to the re- 
moval of the troops, and stipulated that the necessary preparations 
should commence on the following morning. Thus, through the 
decisive and spirited conduct of Samuel Adams, and a few other 
kindred spirits, the obstinacy of a royal governor was subdued, 
and further hostilities were for a still longer time suspended. 

The popularity and influence of Mr. Adams were rapidly in- 
creasing, and the importance of his being detached from the pop- 
ular party became every day more manifest. We have already 
noticed the suggestion to governor Hutchinson to effect this, by 
the gift of some lucrative office. Other offers of a similar kind, 
it is reported, were made to him, at different times, by the royal 
authorities, but with the same ill success. About the year 1773, 
governor Gage renewed the experiment. At that time colonel 
Fenton was requested to wait upon Mr. Adams, with the assurance 
of governor Gage, that any benefits would be conferred upon him 
which he should demand, on the condition of his ceasing to op- 
pose the measures of the royal government. At the same time, it 
was not obscurely hinted, that such a measure was necessary, on 
personal conisderations. He had incurred the royal displeasure, 
and already, such had been his conduct, that it was in the power 
of the governor to send him to England for trial, on a charge of 
treason. It was suggested that a change in his political conduct, 
might save him from this disgrace, and even from a severer fate ; 
and nvight elevate him, moreover, from his circumstances of indi- 
gence, to the enjoyment of affluence. 

To this proposal, Mr. Adams listened with attention; but as col- 
onel Yenton concluded his communication, with all the spirit of a 
man of honor, with all the integrity of the most incorrupted and 
incorruptible patriotism, he replied,- "go tell governor Gage, that 
my peace has long since been made with the King of kings, and 
that it is th-> advice of Samuel Adams to him, no longer to insult 
the feelings oj an already exasperated people. ''"' 

The independence and sterling integrity of Mr. Adams, might 
well have secured o him the respect, and even confidence of gov- 
ernor Gage ; but witU far different feelings did he regard the noble 
conduct of this high miirled patriot. Under the irritation excited 
by the failure of a fa-orite plan, governor Gage issued a procla- 



SAMUEL ADAMS. 551 

mation, which comprehended the following language : "I do here- 
by," he said, "in his majesty's name, ofler and promise his most 
gracious pardon to all persons, who shall forthwith lay down their 
arms, and return to the duties of peaceable subjects : excepting 
only from the benefits of such pardon, Samuel Adams and Johk 
Hancock, whose offences are of too flagitious a nature to admit 
of any other consideration but that of condign punishment." 

Thus these independent men were singled out as the objects of 
peculiar vengeance, and even their lives endangered, for honora- 
bly resisting a temptation, to which, had they yielded, they would 
have merited the reproach of their countrymen, and the scorn of 
the v/orld. 

Mr. Adams was a member of the first continental congress, 
which assembled in Philadelphia on the 5th of September, 1774; 
and continued a member of that body until the year 1781. Dur- 
ing this period, no delegate acted a more conspicuou.s or manly 
part. No man exhibited a more indefatigable zeal, or a firmer 
tone of character. He early saw that the contest would probably 
not be decided without bloodshed. He was himself prepared for 
every extremity, and was willing that such measures should be 
adopted, as should lead to an early issue of the controversy. He 
was accordingly among the warmest advocates for the declaration 
of American independence. In his view, the die was cast, and 
a further friendly connexion with the parent country was impossi- 
ble. "I am perfectly satisfied," said he, in a letter written from 
Philadelphia, to a friend in Massachusetts, in April, 1776, "of the 
necessity of a public and explicit declaration of independence. 
I cannot conceive what good reason can be assigned against it.— 
Will it widen the breach? This would be a strange question, af- 
ter we have raised armies, and fought battles with the British troops ; 
set up an American navy; permitted the inhabitants of these col- 
onies to fit out armed vessels, to capture the ships^ &c., belonging 
to any of the inhabitants of Great Britain ; declaring them the 
enemies of the United colonies; and torn into shivers their acts 
of trade, by allowing commerce, subject to regulations to be made 
by ourselves, with the people of all coimtries, except such as are 
subject to the British king. It cannot surely, after all this, be im- 



552 SAMUEL ADAMS. 

agined that we consider ourselves, or mean to be considered by 
others, in any other state, than that of independence." 

The independence of America was at length declared, and gave 
a new political character, and an immediate dignity to the cause 
of the colonies. But notwithstanding this measure might itself 
bear the aspect of victory, a formidable contest yet awaited the 
Americans. The year following the declaration of independence, 
the situation of the colonies was extremely gloomy. The stoutest 
hearts trembled within them, and even doubts were expressed, 
whether the measures which had been adopted, particularly the 
declaration of independence, were not precipitate. The neigh- 
borhood of Philadelphia became the seat of war; congress, now 
reduced to only twenty-eight members, had resolved to remove 
their session to Lancaster. At this critical period, Mr. Adams 
accidentally fell in company with several other members, by 
whom the subject of the state of the country was freely and con- 
fidentially discussed. Gloomy forebodings seemed to pervade 
their minds, and the greatest anxiety was expressed as to the issue 
of the contest. 

To this conversation, Mr. Adams listened with silent attention. 
At length he expressed his surprise, that such desponding feelings 
should have settled upon their hearts, and such desponding lan- 
guage should be even confidentially uttered by their lips. To this 
it was answered, "the chance is desperate." "Indeed, indeed, it 
is desperate," said Mr. Adams, "if this be our language. If %ce 
wear long faces, others will do so too; if we despair, let us not ex- 
pect that others will hope ; or that they will persevere in a contest, 
from which their leaders shrink. But let not such feelings, let 
not such language, be ours." Thus while the hearts of others 
were ready tofaint, Samuel Adams maintained his usual firmness. 
His unshaken courage, and his calm reliance upon the aid and 
protection of heaven, contributed in an eminent degree to inspire 
his countrj'^men vdth a confidence of their final success. A higher 
encomium could not have been bestowed on any member of the 
continental congress, ihan is expressed in relation to Mr. Adams 
by Mr. Galloway, in his historical and political reflections on the 
rise and progress of the American rebellion, published in Great 
Britain, 1780. "He eats little," says the author, "drinks little. 



SAMUEL ADAMS. 553 

sleeps little, thinks much, and is most indefatigable in tiie pursuit 
of his object. It was this man, who by his superior application, 
managed at once the factions in congress at Philadelphia, and the 
factions of New-England." 

In 1781, Mr. Adams retired from congress ; but it was to receive 
from his native state, additional proofs of high estimation of his 
services, and of the confidence which she reposed in his talents 
and integrity. He had already been an active member of the con- 
vention that formed her constitution, and after it went into effect, 
he was placed in the senate of the state, and for several years pre- 
sided over that body. In 1789, he was elected lieutenant-governor, 
and held that office till 1794; when, upon the death of Hancock, 
he was chosen governor, and was annually re-elected till 1797, 
when he retired from public life. This retirement, however, he 
did not long enjoy, as his death occurred on October 2d, 1803, at 
the advanced age of 82. 

From the foregoing sketches of Mr. Adams, it will not be dif- 
ficult for the reader to form a tolerably correct opinion of his char- 
acter and disposition. In his person, he is said to have been only 
of the middle size, but his countenance indicated a noble genius 
within, and a more than ordinary inflexibility of character and 
purpose. Great sincerity and simplicity marked his manners and 
deportment. In his conversation, he was at once interesting and 
instructive; and those who shared his friendship had seldom any 
reason to doubt his affection and constancy. His writings were 
volummous, but unfortunately, as they generally related to the 
temporary politics of the day, most of them are lost. Those which 
remain, furnish abundant proof of his superiority as a writer, of 
the soundness of his political creed, and of the piety and sincerity 
of his character. As an orator, he was eminently fitted for the 
stormy times in which he lived. His elocution was concise and 
impressive, partaking more of the logical than the figurative, and 
rather calculated to enlighten the understanding, than to excite the 
feelings. Yet no man could address himself more powerfully to 
the passions, than he did, on certain occasions. As a statesman, 
his views were broad and enlightened; what his judgment had 
once matured, he pursued with inflexible firmness, and patriotic 
ardor. While others desponded, he was fall of hope ; where others 



554 RICHARD HENRY LEE. 

hesitated, ho was resolute ; where others were supine, he was eager 
for action. His circumstances of indigence led him to habits of 
simplicity and frugality ; but beyond this, he was naturally averse 
to parade and ostentation. 

"Mr. Adams was a christian. His mind was early imbued with 
piety, as well as cultivated by science. He early approached the 
table of the Lord Jesus, and the purity of his life witnessed the 
sincerity of his profession. On the christian Sabbath he con- 
stantly went to the temple, and the mornmg and evening devotions 
in his family proved, that his religion attended him in his seasons 
of retirement. 



RICHARD HENRY LEE. 

Richard Heisry Lee, a descendant from an ancient and dis- 
tinguished family in Virginia, was born in Westmoreland county, 
of that province, on the twentieth of January, 1732. As the schools 
of the country for many years furnished but few advantages for 
an education, those who were able to meet the expense, were ac- 
customed to send their sons abroad for instruction. At a proper age, 
young Lee was sent to a flourishing school, then existing at Wakes- 
field, in the county of Yorkshire, England. The talents which he 
possessed, industriously employed under the guidance of respect- 
able tutors, rendered his literary acquisitions easy and rapid ; and 
in a few years he returned to his native country, with a mind weli 
stored with scientific and classical knowledge. 

For several years following his return to America, he continued 
his studies with persevering industry, greatly adding to his stock 
of knowledge which he had gained abroad, by which he was still 
more eminently fitted for the conspicuous part he was destined to 
act in the approaching revolutionary struggle of his country. 

About the year 1757, Mr. Lee was called to a seat in the house 
of burgesses. For several years, however, he made but an indif- 
ferent figure, either as an orator or as the leader of a party, owing, 
it is said, to a natural diffidence, which prevented him from dis- 
playing those powers with which he was gifted, or exercising that 
influence to which he was entitled. This impediment, however, 
was gradually removed, when he rapidly rose into notice, and be- 
came conspicuous as a political leader in his country, and highly 



RICHARD HENRY LEE, 553 

distinguished for a natural, easy, and at the ^ame time impressive 
eloquence. 

In the year 1765, Patrick Henry proposed the celebrated reso- 
lutions against the stamp act. During the debate on these resolu- 
tions, Mr. Lee arrived at the seat of government, soon after which 
he entered with great spirit into the debate, and powerfully assisted 
in carrying these resolutions through the house, in opposition to the 
timidity of some, and the mistaken judgment of others. 

The above strong and spirited resolutions served as has already 
been noticed in a former page, to rouse the energies of the Amer- 
icans, and to concentrate that feeling, which was spending itself 
without obtaining any nnportant object. Not long after the above 
resolutions were carried, Mr. Lee presented to his fellow-citizens 
the plan of an association, the object of which was an effectual 
resistance to the arbitrary power of the mother country, which 
was manifesting itself in various odious forms ; and especially in 
that detestable measure, the stamp act. The third article of the 
constitution of this association will show the patriotic and deter- 
mined spirit which prevailed in the county of Westmoreland, the 
people of which generally united in the association. "As the 
stamp act does absolutely direct the property of people to be taken 
from them, without their consent, expressed by their representa- 
tives, and as in many cases it deprives the British American sub- 
ject of his right to be tried by jury, we determine, at every hazard, 
and paying no regard to death, to exert every faculty to prevent the 
execution of the stamp act, in every instance within the colony." 
The influence of this association, and other associations of a 
similar kind, rendered the execution of the stamp act difficult, and 
even impossible. It was a measure to which the Americans 
would not submit; and the ministry of Great Britain, were reluc- 
tantly forced to repeal it. To Mr. Lee, as well as to his country- 
men, the removal of the stamp act was an occasion of no small joy ; 
but the clause accompany ing the repealing act, which declared the 
power of parliament to bind the colonies in all cases whatever, 
was a dark cloud, which in a measure obscured the brightness of 
the prospect, and foreboded an approaching storm. 

In the year 1773, Mr. Lee brought forward in the Virginia house 
of burgesses, his celebrated plan for the formation of a committee 



556 RICHARD HENRY lEE. 

of correspondence, whose object was to disseminate information, 
and to kindle the flame of liberty, throughout the continent ; or, in 
other language, "to watch the conduct of the British parliament, 
to spread more widely correct information on topics connected 
with the interests of the colonies, and to form a closer union of the 
men of influence in each." The honor of having first established 
corresponding societies is claimed both by Massachusetts and Vir- 
ginia; the former placing the merit to the account of her distin- 
guished patriot, Samuel Adams ; and the latter assigning it to Rich- 
ard Henry Lee. It is probable, however, that both of these dis- 
tinguished men are entitled to equal honor, in respect to origina- 
ting a plan which contributed more than most others, to a unity of 
sentiment and harmony of action among the different leaders in 
the respective colonies. Without concert between them, each of 
these individuals seems to have introduced the plan, about the 
same period, to the legislatures of their respective colonies. It is 
certain however, that in respect to Mr. Lee, the plan of these cor- 
responding societies was not the result of a few days reflection only. 
It had occupied his thoughts for several years ; had been there form- 
ing and maturing, and, at length, was proposed and adopted, to the 
infinite advantage of the cause of liberty in the country. 

Of the distinguished congress which met at Philadelphia in 1774 
Mr. Lee was a delegate from Virginia, with Washington and Hen- 
ry. In the deliberations of this celebrated body, Mr. Lee acted 
a conspicuous part, and served on several committees; and to his 
pen is attributed the memorial, which the continental congress au- 
thorized, to the people of British America. In the following year, 
Mr. Lee received the unanimous suffrage of the district in which 
he resided to the assembly of Virginia, by which he was deputed 
to represent the colony in the second congress, which was to meet 
on the tenth of May of that year. At the same time, he received 
an expression of the thanks of the assembly, "for his cheerful un- 
dertaking, and faithful discharge of the trust reposed in him, during 
the session of the last congress." 

On the meeting of this second congi-ess, it was apparent that all 
hope of peace and reconciliation with the mother country was at 
an end. Indeed, hostilities had actually commenced ; the busy note 
of preparation was heard in all the land. Washington was sum- 



i 



RICHARD HENRY LEE. 557 

moned by the unanimous voice of congress, to the command of the 
American armies ; and his commission and instructions it fell to Mr. 
Lee to furnish, as the chairman of a committee appointed for that 
purpose. During the same session, also, he was placed on com- 
mittees which were appointed to the important duties of preparing 
munitions of war, encouraging the manufacture of saltpetre and 
arms, and for devising a plan for the more rapid communication of 
intelligence throughout the colonies. 

The period liad now arrived, when the thoughts of the American 
people were turned, in solemn earnest, to the great subject of 
American independence. Most of the colonies were already pre- 
pared to hail with joy a measure which should declare to the world 
their determination to be accounted a free and independent people. 
Most of th6 provincial assemblies had published resolutions in fa- 
vor of such a declaration, and had even instructed their delegates 
to urge upon congress the importance and necessity of this de- 
cisive step. 

Mr. Lee was selected to move the resolution in congress on this 
great subject. This he did on the seventh of June, 1776, in the 
following words : "That these united colonies are, and of right 
ought to be, free and independent states ; that they are absolved 
from all allegiance to the British crown ; and that all political con- 
nexion between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought 
to be, totally dissolved." 

The motion, thus introduced by Mr. Lee, he followed by one of 
the most luminous and eloquent speeches ever delivered either by 
himself or any other gentleman on the floor of congress. "Why 
then, sir," (said he in conclusion,) "why do we longer delay ? Why 
still deliberate ? Let this happy day give birth to an American 
republic. Let her arise, not to devastate and to conquer, but to re- 
establish the reign of peace and of law. The eyes of Europe 
are fixed upon us ; she demands of us a living example of freedom, 
that may exhibit a contrast in the felicity of our citizens to the ever 
increasing tyranny which desolates her polluted shores. She in- 
vites us to prepare an asylum, where the unhappy may find a 
solace, and the persecuted repose. She entreats us to cultivate a 
propitious soil, where that generous plant which first sprung and 
grew in England, but is now withered by the poisonous blasts of 
48 



558 EICHAHD HENRV LEE. 

Scottish tyranny, may revive and flourish, sheltering under its sa- 
lubrious and interminable shade, all the unfortunate of the human 
race. If we are not this day wanting in our duty, the name of the 
American legislators of 1776, will be placed by posterity at the 
side of Theseus, Lycurgus and Romulus, of the three Williams of 
Nassau, and of all those whose memory has been, and ever will 
be, dear to virtuous men and good citizens." 

The debate on the above motion of Mr. Lee was protracted 
until the tenth of June, on which day congress resolved, "that the 
consideration of the resolution respecting independence, be post- 
poned till the first Monday of July next; and, in the mean while, 
that no time be lost, in case the congress agree thereto, that a 
committee be appointed to prepare a declaration to the effect of 
the said resolution." 

On the day on which this resolution was taken, Mr. Lee was 
unexpectedly summoned to attend upon his family in Virginia, 
some of the members of which were at that time dangerously ilL 
As the mover of the original resolution for independence, it would, 
according to parliamentary usage, have devolved upon Mr. Lee 
to have been appointed chairman of the committee selected to 
prepare a declaration, and, as chairman, to have furnished that 
important document. In the absence of Mr. Lee, however, Mr. 
Jefferson was elected to that honor, by whom it was drawn up 
with singular energy of style and argument. 

In the -following month Mr. Lee resumed his seat in congress, 
in which body he continued till June 1777; during which period 
he continued the same round of active exertions for the welfare 
of his country. It was his fortune, however, as well as the for- 
tune of others, to have enemies, who charged him with disaffection 
to his country, and attachment to Great Britain. The ground on 
which this charge was made, was, that contrary to his former 
practice, previously to the war, he received the rents of his ten- 
ants in the produce of their farms, instead of colonial money, which 
had now become greatly depreciated. This accusation, although 
altogether unjust and unwarrantable, gained so much credit, that 
the name of Mr. Lee was omitted by the assembly, in their list of 
delegates to congress. This gave him an opportunity, and fur- 
sished him with a motive, to demand of the assembly an enquiry 



RICHARD HENRV LEE. 559 

into the nature of the allegations against him. The enquiry re- 
sulted in an entire acquittal, and in an expression of thanks to 
Mr. Lee, which was conveyed, on the part of the house, by their 
speaker, Mr. Wythe, in the following language : "It is with pecu- 
liar pleasure, sir, that I obey this command of the house, because 
it gives me an opportunity, while I am performing an act of duty 
to them, to perform an act of justice to yourself. Serving with 
you in congress, and attentively observing your conduct there, I 
thought that you manifested, in the American cause, a zeal truly 
patriotic; and as far as I could judge, exerted the abilities for 
which you are confessedly distinguished, to promote the good and 
prosperity of your own country in particular, and the United States 
in general. That the ^tribute of praise deserved, may reward 
those who do well, and encourage others to follow your example, 
the house have come to this resolution — That the thanks of this 
house be given to Richard Henry Lee, for the faithful services 
he has rendered his country, in discharge of his duty as one of 

the delegates from this statp. in the gpnpral congiess." 

At a subsequent period Mr. Lee was again elected a delegate 
to congress; but during the session of 1778 and 1779, in conse- 
quence of ill health, he was obliged frequently to absent himself 
from the arduous duties which devolved upon him, and which he 
could no longer sustain. From this time until 1784, Mr. Lee de- 
clined accepting a seat in congress, from a belief that he might 
be more useful to his native state by holding a seat in her assem- 
bly. In this latter year, however, the people of Virginia again 
honored him by again appointing him one of her representatives 
to congress, of which body he was unanimously elected president. 
In this exalted station he presided with great ability ; and on the 
expiration of his term of service, he received the thanks of con- 
gress for his able and faithful discharge of the duties of president, 
while acting in that station. 

To the adoption of the federal constitution without amendment, 
although not a member of the convention which discussed its me- 
rits, he was strongly opposed. The tendency of the constitution, 
he apprehended, was to consolidation. To guard against this, it 
was his wish that the respective states should impart to the federal 
head only so much power as was necessary for mutual safety and 



560 RICHARD HENRY LEE. 

happiness. Under the new constitution, Mr. Lee was appointed 
the first senator from Virginia, in the exercise of which office, he 
offered several amendments to the constitution, from the adoption 
of which he hoped to lessen the danger to the country, which he 
had apprehended. 

About the year 1792, Mr. Lee, enfeebled by his long attention 
to public tiuties, and by the infirmities of age, retired to the en- 
joyment of his family and friends. Not long after, he had the 
pleasure of receiving from the senate and house of delegates of 
Virginia, the following unanimous vote of thanks : "Resolved, 
unanimously, that the speaker be directed to convey to Richard 
Henry Lee, the respects of the senate ; that they sincerely sym- 
pathize with him in those infirmities which have deprived their 
country of his valuable services,- and that they ardently wish he 
may, in his retirement, with uninterrupted happiness, close the 
evening of a life, in which he hath so conspicuously shone forth 
as a statesman and patriot; that, while mindful of his many 
exertions to promotp. the public interests, they are particularly 
thankful for his conduct as a member of the legislature of the 
United States." 

The following quotation from Sanderson's Biography, is too 
beautiful, and too just, not to merit an insertion in this history : — 

"The preceding sketch may give some idea of the public ser- 
vices of Mr. Lee : but who can depict him in that sphere, of which 
he was the centre? giving light and happiness to all around him; 
possessing all the enjoyment which springs from virtue, unblem- 
ished fame, blooming honors, ardent friendship, eloquence of taste, 
and a highly cultivated mind. His hospitable door was open to 
all: the poor and the distressed frequented it for relief and conso- 
lation ; the young for instruction ; the old for happiness ; while a 
numerous family of children, the offspring of two marriages, clus- 
tered around, and clung to each other in fond affection ; imbibing 
the wisdom of their father, while they were animated and delight- 
ed by the amiable serenity and captivating graces of his conver- 
sation. The necessities of his country occasioned frequent ab- 
sences ; but every return to his home was celebrated by the people 
as a festival; for he was their physician, their counsellor, and the 
arbiter of their differences. The medicines which he imported, 



DANIEL BOONE. 561 

were carefully and judiciously dispensed; and the equity of his 
decisions was never controverted by a court of law." 

And, to give a finishing polish to this beautiful portrait of this 
estimable man, it may be added, that he was a professed believer 
in the Christian religion; and this avowal of his faith was made 
amid the accumulated honors of the world, which were lavishly 
bestowed on him, with sincere good will, and in the full and un- 
clouded exercise of his vigorous mind. 

This highly honored and distinguished man, and eminent bene- 
factor of his country, closed his useful life at Chantilly, in the 
county of Westmoreland, in Virginia, on the nineteenth day of 
June, 1794, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. 



DANIEL BOONE, 
The first Settler of Kentucky. 
The merit of opposing the hostile attacks of men regardless of 
every law of honor and humanity ; counteracting the treacherous 
machinations of barbarians, who conceive an advantage can never 
be unjustly gained; and bearing up against continual party skir- 
mishes, and uninterrupted harrassments, in a contest for the un- 
enclosed and unfrequented plains of nature, evidently deserves 
commemoration. The general entrusted with the chief command 
of an army, who earns his fame by the capture of a troop, reduc- 
tion of a town, province, or country, is stimulated by the fame, 
the natural consequence of his actions, and sees the speedy end 
of the contest; but the former expects no epic muse to sing« his 
worthy actions ; though his valor is equally tried, or rather teased, 
by the continual and petty insults of the disorganized and detached 
foe. To his courage he must add that persevering integrity, which 
years of uninterrupted assaults cannot subdue. If personal brav- 
ery, united with disinterested zeal for the good of that community 
of \thich he is a member, merit our notice, Daniel Boone should 
I not be passed over in silence. Though not designed by fortune 
to display those talents, which in an important campaign between 
the civilized powers of Europe, would have enrolled his name in 
the list of worthies; yet fortunately for the cause of virtue and the 
just success of his fame, his labors are not consigned to oblivion ; 
but, unlike some of those beauteous productions of nature in the 
48* 



562 DANIEL BOONE. 

lonely theatre of his actions, "born to waste their sweetness on 
the desert air," were by their author plucked from their native 
soil, and presented to his friends. 

Daniel Boone was born, as we are informed, near Bridgenorth, 
in Somersetshire, (England,) about the year 1730. While he was 
young, his parents emigrated to America, and settled in North 
Carolina, where he was bred to the profession of arms, and was 
very early retained in the service of that country, on the part of 
the English government. He passed through all the inferior gra- 
dations to the post of colonel, in which capacity he distinguished 
himself as the most active, zealous, and useful of the original set- 
tlers of Kentucky, It was his frequent combats with the Indians 
on that occasion, during the period of thirteen years, which ren- 
der him the subject of this memoir. The particulars of his 
campaigns, if they deserve that name, will be read with more 
pleasure as left us by himself, where, though devoid of art, and 
the ornaments a qualified biographer might have furnished, there 
may be seen the stamp of unexaggerated authenticity, and lively 
feelings of the patriot, citizen, parent and friend. 

"It was on the first of May, 1769, that I resigned my domestic 
happiness, and left my family and peaceful habitation on the Yad- 
kin river, in North Carolina, to wander through the wilderness of 
America, in quest of the country of Kentucky, in company with 
John Finley, John Stuart, Joseph Holden, James Money, and 
William Cool. On the seventh of June, after travelling through 
a mduntainous wilderness, in a western direction, we found our- 
selves on Red river, where John Finley had formerly been trading 
with the Indians; and from the top of an eminence saw with 
pleasure the beautiful level of Kentucky. For some time we had 
experienced the most uncomfortable weather. We now encamped, 
made a shelter to defend us from the inclement season, and began 
to hunt and reconnoitre the country. We found abundance of 
wild beasts in this vast forest. The buffaloes were more numer- 
ous than cattle on other settlements, browsing upon the leaves of 
the cane, or cropping the herbage of these extensive plains. Wc 
saw hundreds in a drove, and the numbers about the salt springs 
were amazing. In this forest, the habitation of beasts of every 
American kind, we hunted with success until December. On 



DANIEL BOONE. 563 

(he 22(1 of December, John Stuart and I had a pleasing ramble ; 
but fortune changed the day at the close of it. We had passed 
through a great forest, in which stood myriads of trees, some gay 
with blossoms, others rich with fruits. Nature had here a series 
of wonders and a fund of delights. Here she displayed her in- 
genuity and industry in a variety of flowers and fruits,^ beautiful- 
ly colored, elegantly shaped, and charmingly flavored; and we 
were diverted with numberless animals presenting themselves 
perpetually to our view. In the decline of the day, near the 
Kentucky river, as we descended the brow of a small hill, a num- 
ber of Indians rushed out of a thick cane-brake and made us 
prisoners. They plundered us, and kept us in confinement seven 
days. During this time we discovered no uneasiness or desire to 
escape, which made them Jess suspicious ; but in the dead of night, 
as we lay by a large fire in a thick cane-brake, when sleep had 
locked up their senses, my situation not disposing me to rest, I 
gently awoke my companion. We seized this favorable opportu- 
nity and departed, directing our course towards our old camp ; but 
found it plundered, and our companions dispersed and gone home. 
About this time my brother, Squire Boone, with another adventur- 
er, who came to explore the country shortly after us, was wander- 
ing through the forest, and accidentally found our camp. Notwith- 
standing our unfortunate circumstances, and our dangerous situa- 
tion, surrounded by hostile savages, our meeting fortunately in 
the wilderness, gave us the most sensible satisfaction. Soon after 
this, my companion in captivity, John Stuart, was killed by the 
savages; and the man that came with my brother returned home 
by himself. We were then in a dangerous, helpless situation, ex- 
posed daily to perils and deaths among the savages and wild beasts, 
not a white man in the country but ourselves. Thus, many hun- 
dred miles from our families, in the howling wilderness, we did 
not continue in a state of indolence, but hunted every day, and 
prepared a little cottage to protect us from the winter storm?. We 
met with no disturbance during the winter. On the first of May, 
1770, my brother returned home by himself for a new recruit of 
horses and ammunition, leaving me alone, without bread, salt or 
sugar, or even a horse or a dog. I passed a few days uncomfort- 
bly . The idea of a beloved wife and family, and their anxiety on 



564 DANIEL BOOiNE. 

my account, would have exposed me to melancholy, if I had fur- 
ther indulged the thought. One day I undertook a tour through 
the country, when the diversity and beauties of nature I met with 
in this charming season, expelled every gloomy thought. Just at 
the close of the day, the gentle gales ceased; a profound calm en- 
sued; not a breath shook the tremulous leaf. I had gained the 
summit of a commanding ridge, and looking round with astonish- 
ment and delight, beheld the ample plains and beauteous tracts 
below. On one hand, the famous Ohio, rolling in silent dignity, 
and marking the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceiv- 
able grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the mountains lift 
their venerable brows and penetrate the clouds. All things were 
still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of sweet water, and feasted 
on the loin of a buck, which a few hours before I had killed. The 
shades of night soon overspread the hemisphere, and the earth 
seemed to gasp after the hovering moisture. 

My excursion had fatigued my body and amused my mind. 1 
laid me down to sleep, and awoke not until the sun had chased 
away the night. I continued this tour, and in a few days explored 
a great part of the country, each day equally pleased as the first; 
after which I returned to my old camp, which had not been disturbed 
in my absence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often re- 
posed in thick cane-brakes, to avoid the savages, who, I believe, 
often visited my camp, but fortunately during my absence. No 
populous city, with all the varieties of commerce and stately 
structures, could afford so much pleasure to my mind as the beau- 
ties of nature I found in this country. Until the 27th of July, I 
spent the time in an uninterrupted scene of sylvan pleasures, 
when my brother, to my great felicity, met me, according to ap- 
pointment, at our old camp. Soon after, we left the place, and 
proceeded to Cumberland river, reconnoitering that part of the 
country, and giving names to the different rivers. 

In March, 1771, 1 returned home to my family, being deter- 
mined to bring them as soon as possible, at the risk of my life and 
fortune, to reside in Kentucky, Avhich I estemed a second pamdise . 
On my return, I found my family in happy circumstances. I sold 
my farm at Yadr in, and what goods we could not carry with us ; 
and on the 25th ot September, 1773, we bade farewell to our 



DANIEL BOONE. 565 

friends, and proceeded on our journey to Kentucky, in company 
with five more families, and forty men that joined us in Powell's 
valley, which is one hundred and fifty miles from the now settled 
parts of Kentucky ; but this promising beginning was soon over- 
cast with a cloud of adversity. On the 10th of October, the rear 
of our company was attacked by a number of Indians, who killed 
six and wounded one man. Of these, my eldest son was one that 
fell in the action. Though we repulsed the enemy, yet this un- 
happy affair scattered our cattle, brought us into extreme difficulty, 
and so discouraged the whole company, that we retreated forty 
miles to Clench River. We had passed over two mountains, Pow- 
ell's and Walden's, and were approaching Cumberland mountain 
when this adverse fortune overtook us. These mountains are in 
the wilderness, in passing from the old settlements in Virginia to 
Kentucky, are ranged in a S. W. and N. E. direction, are of great 
length and breadth, and not far distant from each other. Over 
them nature has formed passes, less difficult than might be ex- 
pected from the view of such huge piles. The aspect of these 
cliffs is so wild and horrid, that it is impossible to behold them with- 
out terror. Until the 6th of June, 1774, 1 remained with my 
family on the Clench, when I and Michael Stoner were solicited 
by governor Dunmore, of Virginia, to conduct a number of sur- 
veyors to the falls of Ohio. This was a tour of near eight hun- 
dred miles, and took us sixty-two days. On my return, governor 
Dunmore gave me the command of three garrisons, during the 
campaign against the Shawanese. 

In March 1775, at the solicitation of a number of gentlemen of 
North Carolina, I attended their treaty at Wataga with the Chero- 
kee Indians, to purchase the lands on the south side of Kentucky 
river. After this I undertook to mark out a road in the best pas- 
sage from the settlements, through the wilderness, to Kentucky. 
Having collected a number of enterprising men, well armed, I 
soon began this work. We proceeded until we came within fif- 
teen miles of where Boonsborough now stands, where the Indians 
attacked us, and killed two, and wounded two more. This was the 
20th of March, 1775. Three days after, they attacked us again; 
we had two killed and three wounded. After this we proceeded 
on to Kentucky river without opposition. On the first of April, 



566 DAMEl BOOXE. 

wc began to erect the fort of Boonsborough, at a salt lick, sixt}' 
yards from tJic river, on the soutli side. On the 4th, they killed 
one of our men. On the 14th of June, having finished the fort, 
I returned to my family on the Clench. Soon aller I removed my 
family to this fort: wc arrived safe; my wife and daughters being 
the first white women that stood on the banks of Kentucky river. 
December 24th, the Indians killed one man and wounded another, 
seeming determined to persecute us for erecting this tort. July 
14th, 1776, two of colonel Colway's daughters, and one of mine, 
were taken prisoners near the fort. I immediately pursued the 
Indians with only eighteen men. On the 16th, I overtook them, 
killed two of them, and recovered the girls. The Indians had di- 
vided themselves into several parties, and attacked on the same 
da}', all our settlements and forts, doing a great deal of mischief. 
The husbandman was shot dead in the field, and most of the cattle 
were destroyed. They continued their hostilities until the 15th of 
April, 1777, when a party of one hundred of them attacked Boonsbo- 
rough, and killed one man and wounded four. July 4th, they at- 
tacked it again with two hundred men, and killed one of us and 
wounded two. They remained forty-eight hours, during which 
wc killed seven of them. All the settlements were attacked at 
the same time. July 19th, colonel Logan's fort was besieged by 
two hundred Indians. They did much mischief: there were only 
fifteen men in the fort; they killed two, and wounded four of them. 
Indians' loss unknown. July 25th, twenty -five men came from 
Carolina. About August 20th, colonel Bowman arrived with one 
hundred men from Virginia. Now we began to strengthen, and 
had skirmishes with the Indians almost every day. The savages 
now learned the superiority of the long-knife, as they called the 
Virginians, being out-generalled almost in every battle. Our af- 
fairs began to wear a new aspect; the enemy did not now venture 
upon war, but practised secret mischief. January 1st, 1778, I 
went with thirty men to the Blue-licks, on Licking river, to make 
salt for the different garrisons. February 7th, hunting by myself 
to procure meat for the company, I met a patty of one hundred and 
two Indians, and two Frenchmen, marching against Boonsborough. 
They pursued and took me. The next day I capitulated for my 
men, knowing they could not escape. They were twenty-seven 



DANIEL DOOXE. 567 

i-n number, three having gone homo with salt. The Indians, ac- 
cording to the capituhition, used u.s generously. They carried us 
to Old Chillicothe, the principal Indian town on the Little Miami, 
On the 18th of February, wo arrived there, after an uncomforta- 
ble journey, in very severe weather. On the 10th of March, 1 
and ten of my men were conducted to Detroit. On the 30th, we 
arrived there, and were treated by governor Hamilton, the British 
commander at that post, with great humanity. The Indians had 
such an affection for me, that they refused one hundred pounds 
sterling offered thcrn by the governor, if they would leave me with 
the others, on purpose that he might send me home on my parole. 
Several English gentlemen there, sensible oi' my adverse fortune, 
and touched with sympathy, generously offered to supply rny wants, 
which I declined with many thanks, adding, that I never expected 
it would be in my power to recompense such unmerited generosi- 
ty. On the 10th of April they brought me towards Old Chillicothe, 
where we arrived on the 25th day of the same month. This was 
a long and fatiguing march through an exceeding fertile country, 
remarkable for fine springs and streams of water. At Chillicothe 
I spent my time as comfortably as 1 could expect; was adopted 
according to their custom, into a family, where I became a son, 
and had a great share in the affections of my new parents, broth- 
ers, sisters, and friends. I was exceedingly familiar and friendly 
with them, always appearing as cheerful and satisfied as possible, 
and they put great confidence in me. I often went a hunting with 
them, and frequently gained their applause for my activity. At 
our shooting matches, I was careful not to exceed many of them 
in shooting,- for no people are more envious than they arc in this 
sport. I could observe in their countenances and gestures the 
greatest expressions of joy when they exceeded me, and when the 
reverse happened, of envy. The Shawanese king took great 
notice of me, treated me with profound respect and entire friend- 
ship, and often entrusted me to hunt at my liberty. 1 frequently 
returned with the spoils of the woods, and as often presented .some 
of what I had taken to him, expressive of my duty to my sovereign. 
My food and lodging were in common with tliemj not so good, in- 
deed, as 1 could desire, but necessity made every thing acceptable. 
I now began to meditate an escape, but carefully avoided giving 



568 DANIEL BOONE, 

suspicion. Until the 1st of June, I continued at Old Chillicothe, 
and then was taken to the salt springs on the Scioto, and kept 
there ten days making salt. During this time I hunted with them 
and found the land, for a great extent about this river, to exceed 
the soil of Kentucky, if possible, and remarkably well watered. 
On my return to Chillicothe, four hundred and fifty of the choicest 
Indian warriors were ready to march against Boonsborough, paint- 
ed and armed in a dreadful manner. This alarmed me, and 1 de- 
termined to escape. On the 16th of June, before sunrise, I went 
off secretly, and reached Boonsborough on the 20th, a journey of 
one hundred and sixty miles, during which I had one meal. 1 
found our fortress in a bad state; but we immediately repaired our 
flanks, gates, posterns, and formed double bastions, which we com- 
pleted in ten days. One of my fellow-prisoners escaped after 
me, and brought advice that on account of my flight the Indians 
had put off the expedition for three weeks. 

About August 1st, I set out with nineteen men to surprise Paint 
Creek town, on Scioto. Within four miles we fell in with thirty 
Indians, going against Boonsborough. We fought, and the enemy 
gave way. We sufiered no loss. The enemy had one killed and 
two wounded. We took three horses, and all their baggage. The 
Indians having evacuated their town, and gone altogether against 
Boonsborough, we returned, passed them on the 6th day, and on 
the 7th, arrived safe at Boonsborough. On the 8th the Indian ar- 
my, four hundred and forty-four in number, commanded by cap- 
tain Duguesne, and eleven other Frenchmen, and their own chiefs, 
came and summoned the fort. I requested two days considera- 
tion, which they gi-anted. During this, we brought in, through 
the posterns, all the horses and other cattle we could collect. On 
the 9th, in the evening, I informed their commander that we were 
determined to defend the fort while a man was living. They then 
proposed a treaty, and said, if we sent out nine men to conclude 
it, they would withdraw. The treaty was held within sixty yards 
of the fort, and we suspected the savages. The articles were 
agreed to and signed ; when the Indians told us it was their custom 
for two Indians to shake hands with every white man, as aa evi- 
dence of friendship. We agreed to this also. They immediately 
grappled us to take us prisoners ; but we cleared ourselves of 



DANIEL BOONE. 569 

them, though surrounded by hundreds, and gained the fort safelv, 
except one that was wounded by a heavy fire from their army. 
On this they began to undermine the fort, beginning at the water 
mark of Kentucky river, which is sixty yards from the fort. We 
discovered this by the water being made muddy with the clay, and 
countermined them by cutting a trench across their subterranean 
passage. The enemy discovering this by the clay we threw out 
of the fort, desisted. On the 20th of August, they raised the 
siege. During this dreadful siege, we had two men killed and 
four wounded. We lost a number of cattle. We killed thirty- 
seven of the enemy, and wounded a great number. We picked 
up one hundred and twenty-five pounds of their bullets, besides 
what stuck in the logs of the fort. Soon after this I went into the 
settlement, and nothing worthy of notice passed for some time. 

In July, 1779, during my absence, colonel Bowman, with one 
hundred and sixty men, went against the Shawanese at Old Chil- 
licothe. He arrived undiscovered 5 a battle ensued, which lasted 
till ten in the morning, when colonel Bowman retreated thirty 
miles. The Indians collected all their strength and pursued him, 
when another engagement ensued for two hours, not to colonel 
Bowman's advantage. Colonel Harrod proposed to mount a num- 
ber of horses and break the enemy's line. \vho at this time fought 
with remarkable fury. This desperate measure had a happy ef- 
fect, and the savages fled on all sides. In these two battles we had 
nine men killed and one wounded. The enemy's loss was un- 
certain, only two scalps being taken. 

June 22d, 1780, about six hundred Indians and Canadians, un- 
der colonel Bird, attacked Riddle's and Martin's stations, and the 
forts of Licking river, with six pieces of artillery. They took all 
the inhabitants captive, and killed one man and two women, and 
loaded the others with the heavy baggage, and such as failed in 
the journey were tomahawked. The hostile disposition of the 
savages caused general Clark, the commandant of the Falls of 
Ohio, to march with his regiment, and the armed force of the 
country, against Peccaway, the principal town of the Shawanese, 
on a branch of the Great Miami, which he finished with great suc- 
cess, took seventeen scalps, and burned the town to ashes, with 
the loss of seventeen men. About this time I returned to Ken- 
49 



570 BANIEL BOONE. 

tucky with my family; for during my captivity, my wife, thinking 
me killed by the Indians, had transported my family and goods on 
horses, through the wilderness, amidst many dangers, to her fa- 
ther's house in North Carolina. The history of my difficulties in 
going and returning, is too long to be inserted here. 

On the 6th of October, 1780, soon after my settling again at 
Boonsborough, I went with my brother to the Blue Licks; and on 
our return he was shot by a party of Indians. They followed me 
by the scent of a dog, which I shot, and escaped. The severity 
of the winter caused great distress in Kentucky; the enemy dur- 
ing the summer having destroyed most of the corn. The inhab- 
itants lived chiefly on buffaloe's flesh. 

In the spring, 1783, the Indians harrassed us. In May, they 
killed one man at Ashton's station, and took a negro. Captain 
Ashton pursued them with twenty-five men ; and, in an engage- 
ment which lasted two hours, he was obliged to retreat, having 
eight killed and four mortally wounded. Their brave commander 
fell in the action, August 10th, two boys were carried off from 
major Hoy's station. Captain Holden pursued with seventeen 
men: they were also defeated, and lost four, and one wounded.— 
Our affairs became more and more alarming. The savages in- 
fested the country, killing men at every opportunity. In a field 
near Lexington, an Indian shot a man, and running to scalp him^ 
was himself shot from the fort, and fell dead upon his enemy. AH 
the Indian nations were now united against us. August 15th, five 
hundred Indians and Canadians came against Briant's station, five 
miles from Lexington, They assaulted the fort, and killed all the 
cattle around it; but being repulsed, they retired the third day, 
having about thirty killed, their wounded uncertain. The garrison 
had four killed and three wounded. August 18th, colonel Todd, 
colonel Trigg, major Harland, and myself, speedily collected one 
hundred and seventy-six men, well armed, and pursued the sav- 
ages. They had marched beyond the Blue Licks, to a remarkable 
bend of the main fork of Licking river, about forty-three miles 
from Lexington, where we overtook them on the 19th, The sav- 
ages observing us, gave way, and we, ignorant of their numbers, 
passed the river. When they saw our proceedings, having greatly 
jthe advantage in situation, they formed their line of battle from 



DANIEL BOONE. 571 

one bend of Licking to the other, about a mile from the Blue 
Licks. The battle was exceedmgly fierce for about fifteen min- 
utes, when we, being overpowered by numbers, were obliged to 
retreat, with the loss of sixty-seven men, seven of whom were 
taken prisoners. The brave and much lamented colonels Todd 
and Trigg, major Harland, and my second son, were among the 
dead. We were afterwards told that the Indians, on numbering 
their dead, finding that they had four more killed than we, gave 
up four of our people that they had taken, to their young warrior?, 
t© be put to death after their barbarous manner. On our retreat 
we were met by colonel Logan, who was hastening to join us with 
a number of well armed men. This powerful assistance we 
wanted on the day of battle. The enemy said, one more fire from 
us would have made them give way. I cannot reflect upon this 
dreadful scene, but sorrow fills my heart. A zeal for the defence 
of their country led these heroes to the scene of action, though 
with a few men, to attack a powerful army of experienced war- 
riors. When we gave way, they pursued us with the utmost eager- 
ness, and in every quarter spread destruction. The river weis 
difficult to cross, and many were killed in the flight; some just 
entering the river, some in the w^ater, others after crossing, in as- 
cending the cliffs. Some escaped on horseback, a few on foot ; 
and being dispersed every where, a k\v hours brought the melan- 
choly news of this unfortunate battle to Lexington. Many widows 
were now made. The reader may guess what sorrow filled the 
hearts of the inhabitants, exceeding any thing I am able to de- 
scribe. Being reinforced, we returned to bury the dead, and 
found their bodies strewed every where, cut and mangled in a 
dreadful manner. This mournful scene exhibited a horror almost 
unparalleled: some torn and eaten by wild beasts; those in the 
river eaten by fish; all in such a putrified condition, that no one 
could be distinguished from another. When general Clark, at the 
Falls of Ohio, heard of our disaster, he ordered an expedition to 
pursue the savages. We overtook them within two miles of their 
towns, and we should have obtained a great victory, had not some 
of them met us when about two hundred poles from their camp. 
The savages fled in the utmost disorder, and evacuated all their 
towns. We burned to ashes Old Chillicothe, Peccaway,<^rew 



572 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

Chillicothe, Will's Town, and Chillicothe ; entirely destroyed their 
corn and other fruits, and spread desolation through their country. 
We took seven prisoners and five scalps, and lost only four men, 
two of whom were accidentally killed by ourselves. 

This campaign damped the enemy ,• yet they made secret in- 
cursions. In October, a party attacked Crab Orchard, and one 
of them, being a good way before the others, boldly entered a 
house, in which Avere only a woman and her children, and a ne- 
gro man. The savage used no violence, but made an attempt 
to carry off the negro, who happily proved too strong for him 
and threw him on the ground, and in the struggle the woman cut 
off his head with an axe, whilst her daughter shut the door. The 
savages instantly came up, and applied their tomahawks to the 
door, when the mother putting an old rusty gun barrel through 
the crevice, the savages went off. From that time till the happy 
return of peace between the United States and Great Britain, the 
Indians did us no more mischief. Soon after, the Indians desired 
peace. Two darling sons, and a brother, I have lost by savage 
hands, who have also taken forty horses and an. abundance of 
cattle. Many dark and sleepless nights have I spent, separated 
from the cheerful society of men, scorched by the summer's sun, 
and pinched by the winter's cold, an instrument ordained to settle 
the wilderness. But now the scene is changed — peace crowns 
the sylvan shade. DANIEL BOONE, 

Fayette county, Kentucky." 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 
Inspector-General in the American Armv. 

Colonel Hamilton was a native of the island of St. Croix, and 
was born in 1757. His father was the younger son of an English 
family, and his mother was an American lady of respectable con- 
nexions. At the age of sixteen, he accompanied his mother to 
New-York, and entered a student of King's (now Columbia) Col- 
lege, in which he continued about three years. While a member 
of this institution, the first buddings of his intellect gave pre- 
sages of his future eminence. 

The contest with Great Britain called forth the first talents on 
each side, and his juvenile pen asserted the violated rights of the 



ALEXANDER HA3ULT0N. 573 

American colonies against the most respectable writers. His pa- 
pers exhibited such evidence of intellect and wisdom, that they 
were ascribed to Mr. Jay; and when the truth was discovered, 
America saw, with astonishment, a lad of seventeen in the list of 
her able advocates. 

The first sound of war awakened his martial spirit, and at the 
age of eighteen he entered the American army as captain, in the 
corps of artillery. Soon after the war was transferred to the Hud- 
son, in 1777, his superior endowments recommended him to the 
attention of the commander-in-chief, into whose family, before 
completing his twenty -first year, he was invited to enter as an aid, 
with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. Equally brave and intelli- 
gent, he continued in this situation to display a degree of firm- 
ness and capacity which commanded the confidence and esteem 
of the principal officers in the army. 

His sound understanding, comprehensive views, application and 
promptitude, soon gained him the entire confidence of general 
Washington. In such a school, it was impossible but that his 
genius should be nourished. By intercourse with his general, by 
surveying his plans, observing his consummate prudence, by a 
minute inspection of the springs of national operations, he became 
fitted for command. 

Throughout the campaign which terminated in the capture of 
lord Cornwallis, colonel Hamilton commanded a battalion of light 
infantry. Atthe siege of York, in 1781, when the second paral- 
lel was opened, two redoubts, which flanked it, and were advanced 
three hundred yards in front of the .British works, very much an- 
noyed the men in the trenches : it was resolved to possess them ; 
and to prevent jealousies, the attack of one was committed to the 
French, and of the other to the Americans. The detachment of 
the Americans was commanded by the marquis de Lafayette ; and 
colonel Hamilton, at his own earnest request led the advanced 
corps, consisting of two battalions. Towards the close of the 
day, on the fourteenth of October, the troops rushed to the charge 
without firing a single gun ; and so great was their ardor that they 
did not give the sappers time to remove the abattis and pallisades. 
Passing over them, they assailed the works with irresistible impet- 
uosity ou all sides at once, and entered them with such rapidity 
49* 



574 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

that their loss was inconsiderable. The irritation produced by 
the recent carnage at Fort Griswold, had not so far subdued the 
humanity of the American character as to induce retaliation. — 
Not a man was killed except in action. "Incapable," said colo- 
nel Hamilton, in his report, "of imitating examples of barbarity, 
and forgetting recent provocation, the soldiery spared every man 
that ceased to resist." 

Soon after the capture of Cornwallis, Hamilton sheathed his 
sword, and being encumbered with a family, and destitute of funds, 
at the age of twenty -five, applied to the study of the law. In this 
profession he soon rose to distinction. But the critical circum- 
stances of the existing government induced him to accept a seat 
in the congress of the United States. In all important acts of the 
day he performed a conspicuous part, and was greatly distin- 
guished among those distinguished characters whom the crisis had 
attracted to the councils of the country. Being a member of con- 
gress while the question of the commutation of the half pay of 
the army for a sum in gross was in debate, delicacy, and a desire 
to be useful to the army, by removing the idea of his having an 
interest in the question, induced him to write to the secretary of 
war, and relinquish his claim to half pay, which, or the equiva- 
lent, he never received. 

We have now arrived at an interesting and important period in 
the life of Hamilton. After witnessing the debility of the old 
confedera|ion, and its inefficiency to accomplish the objects pro- 
posed by its articles, viz : "common defence, security and liberty, 
and general welfare," a convention of the states was agreed upon, 
for the purpose of forming an efficient federal government. In 
this convention was collected the sound wisdom of the country — 
the patriots and sages who, by their valor and their prudence, had 
carried her triumphantly through the stormy period of the revo- 
lution, and had given her a name among the nations of the earth. 
To this convention Hamilton was appointed a delegate from the 
state of New-York. It convened at the state-house, in Philadel- 
phia, May 25th, 1787. A unanimous vote placed general Wash- 
ington in the chair. 

"It was soon found," says Mr. Martin, one of the delegates from 
Maryland, "there were among us three parties of very different 



AlBXANDER HAMILTON. 575 

sentiments and views. One party, whose object and wish it was 
to abolish and annihilate all state governments, and to bring for- 
ward one general government over this extensive continent, of a 
monarchial nature, under certain restrictions and limitations: — 
Those who openly avowed this sentiment were, it is true, but few ; 
yet it is equally true, sir, that there was a considerable number 
who did not openly avow it, who were, by myself and many others 
of the convention, considered as being in reality favorers of that 
sentiment, and acting upon those principles, covertly endeavoring 
to carry into effect what they well knew openly and avowedly 
could not be accomplished. 

"The second party was not for the abolition of the state govern- 
ments nor for the introduction of a monarchial government under 
any form : but they wished to establish such a system as could 
give their own states an undue power and influence in the gov- 
ernment over the other states. 

'•'A third party was what I considered truly federal and repub- 
lican; this party was nearly equal in number with the other two, 
and were composed of the delegates from Connecticut, New-York, 
New-Jersey, Delaware, and in part from Maryland ; also of some 
individuals from other representations." 

During the heat of party animosity, much was said and writ- 
ten of the monarchial views of Hamilton, and of his attempts, 
in the convention which formed our constitution, to carry those 
views into effect. How far the sentiments imputed to him are 
correct, the following paper read by him as containing his ideas of 
a suitable plan of government for the United States, will show: 

"1. The supreme legislative power of the United States of 
America to be vested in two distinct bodies of men, the one to be 
called the assembly, the other the senate, who together shall form 
the legislature of the United States, with power to pass all laws 
whatsoever, subject to the negative hereafter mentioned. 

"2. The assembly to consist of persons elected by the people, 
to serve for three years. 

"3. The senate to consist of persons elected to serve during 
good behaviour; their election to be made by electors chosen for 
that purpose by the people. In order to this, the states to be di- 
vided into election districts. On the death, removal, or resigna- 



576 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

tion of any senator, his place to be filled out of the district from 
which he came. 

"4. The supreme executive authority of the United States to 
be vested in a governor, to be elected to serve during good beha- 
viour. His election to be made by electors chosen by the people, 
in the election districts aforesaid. His authorities and functions 
to be as follows: 

"To have a negative upon all laws about to be passed, and the 
execution of all laws passed; to have the entire direction of war, 
when authorized or begun ; to have, with the advice and approba- 
tion of the senate, the power of making all treaties ; to have the 
sole appointment of the heads or chief officers of the departments 
of finance, war and foreign aflfairs; to have the nomination of all 
other officers, (ambassadors to foreign nations included,) subject 
to the approbation or rejection of the senate; to have the power 
of pardoning all offences, except treason, which he shall not par- 
don without the approbation of the senate. 

"5. On the death, resignation, or removal of the governor, his 
authority to be exercised by the president of the senate, until a suc- 
cessor be appointed. 

"6. The senate to have the sole power of declaring war; the 
power of advising and approving all treaties ; the power of ap- 
proving or rejecting all appointments of officers, except the heads 
or chiefs of the departments of finance, war and foreign affairs. 
"7. The supreme judicial authority of the United States to be 

vested in judges, to hold their offices during good behaviour, 

with adequate and permanent salaries. This court to have ori- 
ginal jurisdiction in all cases of capture, and an appellative juris- 
diction in all causes in which the revenues of the general govern- 
ment, or citizens of foreign nations, are concerned. 

"8. The legislature of the United States to have power to insti- 
tute courts in each state, for the determination of all matters of 
general concern. 

"9. The governors, senators and all officers of the United 
States, to be liable to impeachment for mal and corrupt conduct; 
and upon conviction, to be removed from office, and disqualified 
from holding any place of trust or profit. All impeachments to 
be tried by a court to consist of the chief, or senior judge of the 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 577 

superior court of law in each state; provided that such judge hold 
his place during good behaviour, and have a permanent salary. 

"10. All laws of the particular states, contrary to the constitu- 
tion or laws of the United States, to be utterly void. And the 
better to prevent such laws being passed, the governor or presi- 
dent of each state shall be appointed by the general government, 
and shall have a negative upon the laws about to be passed in the 
state of which he is governor or president. 

"11. No state to have any forces, land or naval; and the militia 
of all the states to be under the sole and exclusive direction of the 
United States ; the officers of which to be appointed and commis- 
sioned by them." 

Such being the views of Hamilton, the constitution framed by 
the convention did not completely meet his wishes. He was 
afraid it did not contain sufficient means of strength for its own pre- 
servation, and that in consequence we should share the fate of 
many other republics, and pass through anarchy to despotism. 
He was in favor of a more permanent executive and senate. He 
wished for a strong government, which would not be shaken by 
the conflict of different interests through an extensive territory, 
and which should be adequate to all forms of national exigency. 
He was apprehensive that the increased wealth and population of 
the states would lead to encroachments on the union. These were 
his views and feelings, and he freely and honestly expressed them. 

A respectable member of the convention once remarked, that 
if the constitution did not succeed on trial, Mr. Hamilton was less 
responsible for that result than any other member, for he fully and 
frankly pointed out to the convention what he apprehended were 
the infirmities to which it was liable. And that if it answered the 
fond expectations of the public, the community would be more in- 
debted to Mr. Hamilton than any other member ; for after its es- 
sential outlines were agreed to, he labored most indefatigably to 
heal those infirmities, and to guard against the evils to which they 
might expose it. 

The patriotism of Mr. Hamilton was not of that kind which 
yields every thing because it cannot accomplish all that it desires. 
Believing the constitution incomparably superior to the old confed- 
eration, he exerted all his talents in its support. 



578 ALEXANDER HAMLTON. 

After the publication of the constitutionj Hamilton, in concert 
with Mr. Jay and Mr. Madison, commenced the "Federahst," a 
series of essays, addressed to the people of the state of New- 
York, in favor of the adoption of the constitution. These papers 
first made their appearance in the daily prints, early in Novem- 
ber, 1787, and the work was not concluded until a short time pre-* 
vious to the meeting of the state convention, in June, 1788. It 
was well understood that Mr. Hamilton was the principal author, 
and wrote at least three-fourths of the number. This work is not 
to be classed among the ephemeral productions which are calcu- 
lated to produce a party purpose, and when that purpose is an- 
swered, to expire forever. It is a profound and learned disquisi- 
tion on the principles of a federal representative government, and 
combines an ardent attachment to public liberty. This work will 
no doubt endure as long as any of the republican institutions of 
this country, on which it is so luminous and elegant a commentary. 

His voice co-operated with his pen. In the convention of the 
state, which met to deliberate on the federal constitution, he was 
returned a member^ and was always heard with awcy perhaps with 
conviction, though not always with success. But when the crisis 
arrived ; when a vote was to determine whether New-York should 
retain or relinquish her place in the union, and preceding occur- 
rences made it probable that she would choose the worst part of 
the alternative, Hamilton arose in redoubled strength. He argued, 
he remonstrated, he entreated, he warned, he painted, till apa- 
thy itself was moved, and the most relentless of human beings, a 
preconcerted majority, was staggered and broken. Truth was 
again victorious, and New-York enrolled herself under the stand, 
ard of tiie federal constitution. 

The constitution having gone into operation, and the executive 
departments being established, Mr. Hamilton was appointed, in the 
summer of 1780, to the office of secretary of the treasury. The task 
of recruiting public credit, of drawing order and antingement 
from the chaotic confusion in which the finances of America were 
involved, and of devising means which should render the revenue 
productive, and commensurate with the demand, in a manner least 
burthensonie to the people, was justly classed among the most ar- 
duous of the duties which devolved on the new government. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 579 

This office he held between five and six year? ; and when we 
look back to the measures that within that period he originated, 
matured and vindicated, we are astonished in the contemplation of 
the various powers of his ingenious and exalted mind. Mr. Ham- 
ilton is justly considered the founder of the public credit of this 
country. 

The manner in which the several states entered into and con- 
ducted the war of the revolution will be recollected. Actinf^ in 
some respects separately, and in others conjointly, for the attain- 
ment of a common object, their resources were exerted, some- 
times under the authority of congress, sometimes under the au- 
thority of the local governments, to repel the enemy wherever he 
came. The debt incurred in the support of the war was there- 
fore, in the first instance, contracted partly by the continent, and 
partly by the states. When the system of requisition was adoptr 
ed, the transactions of the union were carried on, in a great de- 
gree through the agency of the states, and when the measure of 
compensating the army for the depreciation of their pay became 
necessary, this burden under the recommendation of congress, was 
assumed by the respective states. In their exertions to meet the 
calls of congress, some degree of inequality had obtained, and 
they looked anxiously to a settlement of accounts between them. 

To assume these debts, and to fund them in common with that 
which continued to be the proper debt of the union, was proposed 
by Mr. Hamilton, in his first report to congress, as secretary of the 
treasury. 

This celebrated report, which has been alike the fruitful theme 
of extravagant praise and bitter censure, was rigorously opposed 
in congress. It was agreed by all that the foreign debt should be 
provided for in the manner proposed by the secretary, but with 
respect to the domestic debt, the same unanimity was far from pre- 
vailing. It was contended that the general government would 
acquire an undue influence, and that the state governments would 
be annihilated by the measure. Not only would all the influence 
of the public creditors be thrown into the scale of the former, but 
it would absorb all the powers of taxation, and leave the latter 
only the shadow of a government. This would probably termi- 
nate in rendering the state governments useless, and would des- 



580 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

troy the system so recently established. The constitutional au- 
thority of the federal government to assume these debts was 
questioned. 

On the ground of policy it was objected, that the assumption 
would impose on the United States a burden, the weight of which 
was unascertained, and which would require an extension of tax- 
ation beyond the limits which prudence would prescribe. That 
the debt, by being thus accumulated, would be perpetuated ; and 
the secretary was charged with the doctrine, "that a public debt 
was a public blessing." 

The measure was said to be unwise too, as it would affect the 
public credit. Such an augmentation of the debt must inevitably 
depreciate its value; since it was the character of paper, what- 
ever denomination it might assume, to diminish in value in pro- 
portion to the quantity in circulation. 

In support of the assumption, the debts of the states were traced 
to their origin. America, it was said, had engaged in a war, the 
object of which was equally interesting to every part of the Union. 
It was not the war of a particular state, but of the United States. 
It was not the liberty and independence of a part, but of the whole, 
for which they had contended, and which they had acquired. The 
cause was a common cause. As brethren, the American people 
had consented to hazard property and life in its defence. All the 
sums expended in this great object, whatever might be the authori- 
ty under which they were raised or appropriated, conduced to the 
same end. Troops were raised, and military stores were pur- 
chased, before congress assumed the command of the army, or 
■control of the war. The ammunition which repulsed the enemy 
at Bunker's Hill, was purchased by Massachusetts, and formed a 
part of the debt of that state. 

The great moving principle which governed Hamilton in his 
department, was good faith. "Public credit," said he, "could only 
be maintained by good faith; by a punctual performance of con- 
tracts." And good faith was not only recommended by the strong- 
est inducements of political expediency, but was enforced by 
considerations of still higher authority. There are arguments for 
it, which rest on the immutable principle of moral obligation; and 
in proportion as the mind is disposed to contemplate, in the orde;r 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 581 

of Providence, an intimate connexion between public virtue and 
public happiness, will be its repugnancy to a violation of those 
principles. 

"This reflection," he said, "derived additional strength from the 
nature of the debt of the United States. It loas the price of liberty. 
The faith of America had been repeatedly pledged for it, and 
with a solemnity that gave peculiar force to the obligation." 

His report, though strenuously opposed, was finally adopted; 
and und€r his administration, the finances advanced to a state of 
prosperity beyond all expectation. Commerce revived ; agricul- 
tAire flourished ; property recovered its value ; credit was estab- 
lished; revenue created; the treasury filled. 

In January, 1795, Hamilton resigned the office of secretary of 
the treasury, and retired to private life. He entered the public 
service with property of his own, the reA^ard of professional ta< 
lent; he continued in it till his funds were gone, and left it to get 
bread for a suffering family. 

The last great occasion which called Hamilton upon the theatre 
of public action, existed in the spring of the year 1798. It will 
be recollected that France had long been making depredations 
■upon our commerce ; that our ministers had been treated with the 
grossest indignity, and money demanded of the United States on 
terms the most degrading. Open and determined war was the 
consequence. Washington was appointed lieutenant-general and 
commander-in-chief. The following letter to president Adams, on 
the subject of appointing Hamilton second in command, shows his 
high standing in the opinion of the illustrious Washington. 

"Mount Verno7i, Sept. 25, 1798. 
"It is an invidious task, at all times, to draw comparisons, and 
I shall avoid it as much as possible ; but I have no hesitation in 
declaring, that if the public is to be deprived of the services of 
colonel Hamilton in the military line, the post he was destined to 
fill will not be easily supplied — and that this is the sentiment of 
the public, I think I may venture to pronounce. Although colonel 
Hamilton has never acted in the character of a general officer, 
yet his opportunities, as the principal and most confidential aid 
of the commander-in-chief, afforded him the means of viewing 
every thing on a larger scale than those who had only divisions 
50 



582 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

and brigades to attend to; who knew nothing of the correspond- 
ences of the commander-in-chief, or the various orders to, or trans- 
actions with, the general staff of the army. These advantages, 
and his having served in the old congress, in the general conven- 
tion, and having filled one of the most important departments of 
government with acknowledged ability and integrity, have placed 
him on high ground, and made him a conspicuous character in the 
United States, and even in Europe. To these, as a matter of no 
small consideration, may be added, that as a lucrative practice in 
the line of his profession is his most certain dependence, the in- 
ducement to relinquish it must, in some degree, be commensurate. 
By some he is considered an ambitious man, and therefore a dan- 
gerous one. That he is ambitious, I shall readily grant; but it is 
of that laudable kind, which prompts a man to excel in whatever 
he takes in hand. He .is enterprising, quick in his perceptions^ 
and his judgment intuitively great — qualities essential to a gre?it 
military character; and therefore I repeat, that his loss will be 
irreparable. GEORGE WASHINGTON-" 

Hamilton was accordingly appointed inspector-general, with the 
rank of major-general. When the differences with France were 
settled, and the army was disbanded, in 1800, he returned again 
to his profession in the city of New-York. 

In June, 1804, colonel Burr, vice-president of the United States, 
addressed a letter to general Hamilton, requiring his acknowledg- 
ment or denial of the use of any expression derogatory to the 
honor of the former. The correspondence which led to the fata! 
interview, is here given at length. 

New-York, June 18, 1804. 
Sir — I send for your perusal a letter signed Charles D. Cooper, 
which, though apparently published sometime ago, has but very 
recently came to my knowledge. Mr. Van Ness, who does me 
the favor to deliver this, will point out to you that clause of the 
letter to which I particularly request your attention. 

You must perceive, sir, the necessity of a prompt and unquali- 
fied acknowledgment or denial of the use of any expression which 
would warrant the assertion of Dr. Cooper. 

I have the honor to be your obedient serv't, 
Oen. Hamilton. A. BURR. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 583 

New-York, June 20, 1804. 

Sir— I have maturely reflected on the subject of your letter of 
the 18th inst., and the more I have reflected, the more have I be- 
come convinced that I could not, without manifest impropriety, 
make the avowal or disavowal which you seem to think necessa- 
ry. The clause pointed out by Mr. Van Ness, is in these terms : 
"I could detail to you a still more despicable opinion which gene- 
ral Hamilton has expressed of Mr. Burr." To endeavor to dis- 
cover the meaning of this declaration, I was obliged to seek, in 
the antecedent part of this letter, for the opinion to which it re- 
ferred, as having been already disclosed. I found it in these words : 
— "general Hamilton and judge Kent have declared in substance, 
that they looked upon Mr. Burr to be a dangerous man, and one 
who ought not to be trusted with the reins of government." 

The language of Dr. Cooper plainly implies ; that he consid- 
ered this opinion of you, which he attributes to me, as a despi- 
cable one ; but he affirms that I have expressed some other more 
despicable, without, however, mentioning to whom, when or where. 
'Tis evident that the phrase "still more despicable," admits of in- 
finite shades, from very light to very dark. How am I to judge 
of the degree intended? or how shall I annex any precise idea to 
language so indefinite? 

Between gentlemen, despicable and more despicable are not 
worth the pains of distinction ; when, therefore, you do not inter- 
rogate me, as to the opinion which is specifically ascribed to me, I 
must conclude that you view it as within the limits to which the 
animadversions of political opponents upon each other may justi- 
fiably extend, and consequently as not warranting the idea of it 
which Dr. Cooper appears to entertain, if so, what precise in- 
ference could you draw, as a guide for your conduct, were I to ac- 
knowledge that I had expressed an opinion of you still more des- 
picable than the one which is particularized? How could you be 
sure that even this opinion had exceeded the bounds which you 
would yourself deem admissible between political opponents. 

But I forbear further comment on the embarrassment to which 
the requisition you have made naturally leads. The occasion 
forbids a more ample illustration, though nothing could be more 
easy than topursue it. 



584 ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 

Repeating that I cannot reconcile it with propriety to make the 
acknowledgment or denial you desire, I will add that I deem it in- 
admissible on principle, to consent to be interrogated as to the 
justness of the inferences which may be drawn by others fronii 
whatever I may have said of a political opponent, in the course of 
fifteen years competition. If there were no other objection to itj 
this is sufficient, that it would tend to expose my sincerity and del- 
icacy to injurious imputations from every person who may at any 
time have conceived the import of my expressions differently from 
what I may then have intended, or may afterward recollect. I 
stand ready to avow or disavow, promptly and explicitly, any pre- 
cise or definite opinion which I may be charged with having de- 
clared of any gentleman. More than this cannot be fitly ex- 
pected from me ; and especially it cannot be reasonably expected 
that I shall enter into an explanation upon a basis so vague as that 
which you have adopted. I trust, on more reflection, you will see 
the matter in the same light with me. If not, I can only regre? 
the circumstance, and must abide the consequences. 

The publication of Dr. Cooper was never seen by me till after 
the receipt of your letter. I have the honor to be, &c, 

€ol. BuRK. A. HAMILTON. 

• Nexo-York,2\stJune,\%04:. 

Sir — Your letter of the 20th inst. has been this day received. 
Having considered it attentively, I regret to find in it nothing of 
that sincerity and delicacy which you profess to value. 

Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen from the ne- 
cessity of a rigid adherence to the laws of honor, and the rules of 
decorum. I neither claim such privilege nor indulge it in others. 

The common sense of mankind affixes to the epithet adopted by 
Dr. Cooper, the idea of dishonor. It has been publicly applied 
to me under the sanction of your name. The question is not, 
whether he has understood the meaning of the word^ or has used 
it according to syntax, and with grammatical accuracy, but wheth- 
er you have authorised this application, either directly or by ut- 
tering expressions or opinions derogatory to my honor. The time 
"when" is in your own knowledge, but no way material to me, as 
the calumny has now first been disclosed, so as to become the sub- 
ject of my notice, and as the effect is present and palpable. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 585 

Your letter has furnished me with new reasons for requiring a 
definite reply. I have the honor to be, Sir, your obedient. 
Gen. Hamilton. A. BURR. 

On Saturday, the 22d of June, general Hamilton, foi: the first 
time, called on Mr. Pendleton, and communicated to him the pre- 
ceding correspondence. He informed him that in a conversation 
with Mr. Van Ness, at the time of receiving the last letter, he told 
Mr. Van Ness that he considered that letter as rude and offensive, 
and that it was not possible for him to give it any other answer 
than that Mr. Burr must take such steps as he might think proper. 
He said further, that Mr. Van Ness requested him to take time to 
deliberate, and then return an answer, when he m.ight possibly 
entertain a different opinion, and that he would call on him to 
receive it. That his reply to Mr. Van Ness was, that he did not 
perceive it possible for him to give any other answer than that he 
had mentioned, unless Mr. Burr would take back his last letter and 
write one which would admit of a different reply. He then gave 
Mr. Pendleton the following letter, to be delivered to Mr. Van 
Ness when he should call on Mr. Pendleton for an answer. 

New-York, June 22d, 1804. 
Sir — ^Your first letter, in a style too peremptory, made a demand, 
in my opinion, unprecedented and unwarrantable. My answer, 
pointing out the embarrassment, gave you an opportunity to take 
a less exceptionable course. You have not chosen to do it; but 
by your last letter, received this day, containing expressions inde- 
corous and improper, you have increased the difficulties to ex- 
planation intrinsically incident to the nature of your application. 
If by a "definite reply," you mean the direct avowal or disa- 
vowal required in your first letter, I have no other answer to give 
than that which has already been given. If you mean any thing 
different, admitting of greater latitude, it is requisite you should 
explain. I have the honor to be, Sir, your obedient servant, 
Aaron Burr, Esq. ALEX. HAMILTON. 

This letter, although dated on the 22d of June, remained in Mr. 
Pendleton's possession until the 25th, within which period he had 
several conversations with Mr. Van Ness. In these conversations 
Mr. Pendleton endeavored to illustrate and enforce the propriety 
of the ground general Hamilton had taken. Mr. Pendleton men - 
50*^ 



586 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

tioned to Mr. Van Ness as the result, that if colonel Bun* would 
write a letter, requesting to know in substance, whether in the 
conversation to which Di*. Cooper alluded, any particular instance 
of dishonorable conduct was imputed to colonel Burr, or whether 
there was any impeachment of his private character, general 
Hajniiton would declare to the best of his recollection what passed 
in that conversation ; and Mr. Pendleton read to Mr. Van Ness a 
paper containing the substance of what general Hamilton would 
say on that subject, which is as follows: 

"General Hamilton says he cannot imagine to what Dr. Cooper 
may have alluded, unless it were to a conversation at Mr. Taylor's, 
in Albany, last winter, (at which he and general Hamilton were 
present,) general Hamilton cannot recollect distinctly the particu- 
lars of thiit conversation so as to undertake to repeat them, with- 
out running the risk of varying or omitting what might be deemed 
important circumstances. The expressions are entirely forgot- 
ten, and the specific ideas imperfectly remembered ; but to the 
hest of his recollection it consisted of comments on the political 
principles and views of colonel Burr, and the result that might 
be expected from them in the event of his election as governor, 
without reference to any particular instance of past conduct or to 
private character." ^ 

After the delivery of the letter of the 22d, as above mentioned, 
in another interview with Mr. Van Ness, he desired Mr. Pendleton 
to give him in uriting the substance of what he had proposed on 
the part of general Hamilton, which Mr. Pendleton did in the 
words following: 

"In answer to a letter properly adapted to obtain from general 
Hamilton a declaration whatever he had charged colonel Burr with 
any particular instance of dishonorable conduct, or had impeached 
his private character, either in the conversation alluded toby Dr. 
Cooper, or in any other particular mstance to be specified, he 
would be able to answer consistently with his honor, and the truth, 
in substance, that the conversation to which Dr. Cooper alluded, 
turned wholly on political topics, and did not attribute to colonel 
Burr any instance of dishonorable conduct, nor relate to his pri- 
vate character : and in relation to any other language or conver- 



ALEXANDER HAMILTO^^ 587 

sadon of general Hamilton which colonel Burr will specify, a 
prompt and frank avowal or denial will be given." 

On the 26th of June, Mr. Pendleton received the following let- 
ter: 

Sir — The letter which you yesterday delivered me, and your 
subsequent communication, in colonel Burr's opinion, evince no" 
disposition on the part of general Hamilton to come to a satisfac- 
tor)" accommodation. The injury complained of, and the repara- 
tion expected, are so definitely expressed in colonel Burr's letter 
of the 21st inst., that there is not perceived a necessity for further 
explanation on his part. The difficulty that would result from con- 
fining the inquiry to any particular times and occasions must be 
manifest. The denial of a specified conversation only, would 
leave strong implications that on other occasions improper lan- 
guage had been used. When and where injurious opinions and 
expressions have been uttered by general Hamilton, must be best 
known to him, and of him only will colonel Burr inquire. No 
denial or declaration will he satisfactory, unless it he general, so 
as wholly to exclude the idea that rumors derogatory to colonel 
Burros honor have originated icith general Hamilton, or have been 
fairly inferred from any thing he has said. A definite reply to a 
requisition of this nature was demanded by colonel Burr's letter of 
the 21st inst. This being refused, invites the alternative alluded 
to in general Hamilton's letter of the 20th. 

It was required by the position in which the controversy was 
placed by general Hamilton, on Friday last, (June 22d,) and I was 
immediately furnished with a communication demanding a per- 
sonal interview. The necessity of this measure has not, in the 
opinion of colonel Burr, been diminished by the general's last 
letter, or any communication which has since been received. I 
am consequently again instructed to deliver you a message as soon 
as it may be convenient for you to receive it. I beg, therefore, 
you will be so good as to inform rae at what hour I can have the 
pleasure of seeing you. 

Your most obedient, and very humble servant, 
W. P. VAN NESS. 

Nathaniel Pendleton, Esq. 

June 26th. 



588 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

2Qth June, 1804, 

Sir — I have communicated the letter which you did me the 
honor to write to me of this date, to general Hamilton. The ex- 
pectations now disclosed on the part of colonel Burr, appear to 
him to have greatly extended the original ground of inquiry, and 
instead of presenting a particular and definite case of explana- 
tion, seemed to aim at nothing less than an inquisition into his most 
confidential conversations, as well as others, through the whole 
period of his acquaintance with colonel Burr. 

While he was prepared to meet the particular case fairly and 
fully, he thinks it inadmissible that he should be expected to 
answer at large as to every thing that he may possibly have said 
in relation to the character of colonel Burr, at any time, or upon 
any occasion. Though he is not conscious that any charges which 
are in circulation to the prejudice of colonel Burr, have originated 
with him, except one which may have been so considered, and 
which has long since been fully explained between colonel Burr 
and himself — yet he cannot consent to be questioned generally as 
to any rumors which may be afloat derogatory to the character of 
colonel Burr, without specification of the several rumors, many 
of them probably unknown to him. He does not, however, mean 
to authorize any conclusion as to the real nature of his conduct 
in relation to colonel Burr, by his declining so loose and vague a 
basis of explanation, and he disavows an unwillingness to come 
to a satisfactory, provided it be an honorable accommodation. His 
objection is, the very indifinite ground which colonel Burr has as- 
sumed, in which he is sorry to be able to discern nothing short of 
predetermined hostility. Presuming, therefore, that it will be ad- 
hered to, he has instructed me to receive the message which you 
have it in charge to deliver. For this purpose 1 shall be at home, 
and at your command, to-morrow morning, from 8 to 10 o'clock. 
I have the honor to be, respectfully, 
your obedient servant, 

Wm. p. Van Ness, Esq. NATHANIEL PENDLETON. 

Sir — The letter which I had the honor to receive from you 
under date of yesterday, states, among other things, that in gene- 
ral Hamilton's opinion, colonel Burr has taken a very indefinite 
ground, in which he evinces nothing short of predetermined hos- 



ALEXANDER HAMILTOK. 589 

tility, and that general Hamilton thinks it inadmissible that the 
inquiry should extend to his confidential as well as other conver- 
sations. In this colonel Burr can only reply, that secret whispers, 
traducing his fame and impeaching his honor, are at least, equally 
injurious with slanders publicly uttered ; that general Hamilton 
had, at no time, and in no place, a right to use any such injurious 
expressions ; and that the partial negative he is disposed to give, 
with the reservations he wishes to make, are proofs that he has 
done the injury specified. 

Colonel Burr's request was, in the first instance, proposed in a 
form the most simple, in order that general Hamilton might give 
to the affair that course to which he might be induced by his tem- 
per, and his knowledge of facts. Colonel Burr trusted with con- 
fidence, that from the frankness of a soldier, and the candor of a 
gentleman, he might expect an ingenuous declaration. That if, 
as he had reason to believe, general Hamilton had used expressions 
derogatory to his honor, he would have had the magnanimity to 
retract them; and that if, from his language, injurious inferences 
had been improperly drawn, he would have perceived the proprie- 
ty of correcting errors which might thus have been widely diffused. 
With these impressions, colonel Burr was greatly surprised at 
receiving a letter which he considered as evasive, and w hich in a 
manner, he deemed not altogether decorous. In one expectation, 
however, he was not wholly deceived; for the close of general 
Hamilton's letter contained an intimation that if colonel Burr 
should dislike his refusal to acknowledge or deny, he was ready 
to meet the consequences. This colonel Burr deemed a sort of 
defiance, and would have felt justified in making it the basis of an 
immediate message. But as the communication contained some- 
thing concerning the indefiniteness of the request ; as he believed 
it rather the offspring of false pride than of reflection, and as he 
felt the utmost reluctance to proceed to extremeties, while a ny 
other hope remained, his request was repeated in terms more ex- 
plicit. The replies and propositions on the part of general Ham- 
ilton have, in colonel Burr's opinion, been constantly in substance 
the same. 

Colonel Burr disavows all motives of predetermined hostility, a 
charge by which he thinks insult added to injury. He feels as a 



590 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

gentleman should feel when his honor is impeached or assailed; 
and without sensations of hostility, or wishes of revenge, he is 
determined to vindicate that honor at such hazard as the nature 
of the case demands. 

The length to which this correspondence has extended, only 
tending to prove that the satisfactory redress earnestly desired 
cannot be obtained, he deems it useless to offer any proposition ex- 
cept the simple message which 1 shall now have the honor to deliver. 
I have the honor to be, with great respect, 

Your humble servant, 

W. P. VAN NESS. 
Wednesday viorning, June 27th, 1804. 
With this letter a message was received, such as was to be ex- 
pected, containing an invitation; which was accepted, and Mr. 
Pendleton informed Mr. Van Ness he should hear from him the 
next day as to further particulars. 

Tliis letter was delivered to general Hamilton on the same even- 
ing, and a very short conversation ensued between him and Mr. 
Pendleton, who was to call on him early the next morning for a 
further conference. When he did so, general Hamilton said he 
had not understood whether the message and answer were defi- 
nitely concluded, or whether another meeting was to take place 
for that purpose between Mr. Pendleton and Mr. Van Ness. — 
Under the latter impression, and as the last letter contained matter 
that naturally led to a niraadversion, he gave Mr. Pendleton the 
following paper of remarks, to be communicated to Mr. Van Ness, 
if the state of the affair rendered it pi'oper. 

Remarhs on the Letter of June 27th, 1804. 
"Whether the observations in this letter are designed merely to 
justify the result which is indicated in the close of the letter; or 
may be intended to give an opening for rendering any thing ex- 
plicit which may have been deemed vague heretofore, can only 
be judged of by the sequel. At any rate, it appears to me neces- 
sary not to be misunderstood. Mr. Pendleton is therefore author- 
ised to say, that in the course of the present discussion, written or 
verbal, there has been no intention to evade, defy, or insult, but a 
sincere disposition to avoid extremeties if it could be done with 
propriety. With this view, general Hamilton has been ready to 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 591. 

enter into a frank and free explanation on any and every object 
of a specific nature ; but not to answer a general and abstract 
inquiry, embracing a period too long for any accurate recollection, 
and exposing him to unpleasant criticisms from, or unpleasant 
discussions with, any and every person who may have under- 
stood hira in an unfavorable sense. This (admitting that he could 
answer in a manner the most satisfactory to colonel Burr) he 
should deem inadmissible, in principle and precedent, and humili- 
ating in practice. To this, therefore, he can never submit. Fre- 
quent allusion has been made to slanders, said to be in circulation. 
Whether they are openly or in whispers, they have a form and 
shape, and might be specified. 

"If the alternative alluded to in the close of the letter is definite- 
ly tendered, it must be accepted ; the time, place and manner, to 
be afterwards regulated. I should not think it right, in the midst 
of a circuit court, to withdraw my services from those who may 
have confided important interests to me, and expose them to the 
embarrassment of seeking other counsel, who may not have time 
to be sufficiently instructed in their causes. I shall also want a 
little time to make some arrangements respecting my own affairs." 
In an interview with Mr. Van Ness on the same day, after ex- 
plaining the causes which had induced general Hamilton to sup- 
pose that the state of the affair did not render it improper, Mr. 
Pendleton offered this paper to Mr. Van Ness, but he declined re- 
ceiving it, alleging, that he considered the correspondence as 
closed by the acceptance of the message that he had delivered. 

On Friday, the 6th of July, the circuit being closed, Mr. Pendle- 
ton informed Mr. Van Ness that general Hamilton would be ready 
at any time after the Sunday following. On Monday the particu- 
lars were arranged — on Wednesday the parties met at Weahawk, 
on the Jersey shore, at 7 o'clock, A. M. 

It was nearly seven in the morning when the boat which car- 
ried general Hamilton, his friend Mr. Pendleton, and the surgeon 
mutually agreed on, doctor Hosack, reached that part of the Jersey 
shore called the WeaJiawk. There they found Mr. Burr, and his 
friend Mr. Van Ness, who, as I am told, had been employed since 
their arrival, with coats off, in clearing away the bushes, limbs of 
trees, &c. so as to make a fair opening. The parties, in a few 



592 ALEXA?fI)ER HAMILTON, 

moments, were at their allotted situation: when Mr. Pendleton 
gave the word, Mr. Burr raised his arm' slowly, deliberately took 
his aim, and fired. His ball entered general Hamilton's right side ; 
as soon as the bullet struck him, he raised himself involuntarily 
on his toes, turned a little to the left, (at which moment his pistol 
went ofT,) and fell upon his face. Mr. Pendleton immediately 
called out for Dr. Hosack, who, in running to the spot, had to pass 
Mr. Van Ness and colonel Burr; but Mr. Van Ness had the cool 
precaution to cover his principal with an umbrella, so that Dr. 
Hosack should not be able to swear that he saw him on the field. 
What passed after this, the reader willhave in the following letter 
from Dr. Hosack himself. 

August 17 th, 1804. 
Dear Sir — To comply with your request is a painful task; but 
I will repress my feelings while I endeavor to furnish you with a 
detail of such particulars relative to the melancholy end of our be- 
loved friend Hamilton, as dwell most forcibly on my recollection. 

When called to him, upon his receiving the fatal wound, I found 
him half sitting on the ground, supported in the arms of Mr. Pen- 
dleton. His countenance of death I shall never forget. He had 
at that instant just strength to say, 'This is a mortal wound, doc- 
tor;' when he sank away, and became to all appearance lifeless, 
I immediately stripped up his clothes, and soon, alas! ascertained 
that the direction of the ball must have been through some vital 
part. His pulses were not to be felt; his respiration was entirely 
suspended; and on laying my hand upon his heart, and perceiving 
no motion there,! considered him as irrecoverably gone. I how- 
ever observed to Mr. Pendleton, that the only chance for his re- 
viving was immediately to get him upon the water. We therefore 
lifted him up, and carried him out of the wood to the margin of 
the bank, where the bargemen aided us in putting him into the 
boat, which immediately put off. During all this time I could not 
discover the least symptom of returning life. I now rubbed his 
face, lips, and temple, with spirits of hartshorn, applied it to his 
neck and breast, and to his wrists and palms of his hands, and 
endeavored to pour some into his mouth. When we had got, as I 
should judge, about fifty yards from the shore, some imperfect 
efforts to breathe were, for the first time, manifested. In a few 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 593 

minutes he sighed, and became sensible to the impression of the 
hartshorn, or the fresh air of the water: he breathed— his eyes, 
hardly opened, wandered, without fixing upon any objects, and to 
our great joy he at length spoke. 'My vision is indistinct,' were 
his first words. His pulse became more perceptible, his respira- 
tion more regular; his sight returned. I then examined the wound, 
10 know if there was any dangerous discharge of blood : upon 
slightly pressing his side, it gave him pain, on which I desisted. 
Soon after recovering his sight, he happened to cast his eyes upon 
the case of pistols, and observing the one that he had in his hand 
lying on the outside, he said, 'Take care of that pistol ; it is undis- 
charged, and still cocked ; it may go off and do harm : Pendleton 
knows (attempting to turn his head towards him,) that I did not 
intend to fire at him.' 'Yes,' said Mr. Pendleton, understanding 
his wish, 'I have already made Dr. Hosack acquainted with your 
determination as to that.' He then closed his eyes and remained 
calm, without any disposition to speak; nor did he say much after- 
wards, excepting in reply to my questions as to his feelings. He 
asked me once or twice how I found his pulse ; and he informed 
me that his lower extremities had lost all feeling; manifestincf to 
me that he entertained no hopes that he should long survive. 1 
changed the posture of his limbs, but to no purpose ; they had to- 
tally lost their sensibility. Perceiving that we approached the 
shore, he said, 'Let Mrs. Hamilton be immediately sent for — let 
the event be gradually broken to her; but give her hopes.' Look- 
ing up, we saw his friend, Mr. Bayard, standing on the wharf in 
great agitation. He had been told that general Hamilton, Mr. 
Pendleton, and myself, had crossed the river in a boat together, 
and too well he conjectured the fatal errand, and foreboded the 
fatal result. Perceiving, as we came nearer, that Mr. Pendleton 
and myself only sat in the stern-sheet, he clasped his hands to- 
gether in the most violent apprehensions; but when I called to 
him to have a cot prepared, and he at the same time saw his poor 
friend Wing in the bottom of the boat, he threw up his eyes and 
burst into a flood of tears and lamentations. Hamilton alone ap- 
peared tranquil and composed. We then conveyed him as tenderly 
as possible to the house. The distress of this amiable family was 
such, that, till the first shock was abated, they were scarcely able 
51 



594 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

to summon fortitude enough to yield sufficient assistance to their 
dying friend. 

Upon our reaching the house he became more languid, occa- 
sioned probably by the agitation of his removal from the boat. I 
gave him a little weak wine and water. When he recovered his 
feelings, he complained of pain in his back: we immediately un- 
dressed him, laid him in bed, and darkened the room. Ithen gave 
him a large anodyne, which I frequently repeated. During the 
first day he took upwards of an ounce of laudanum; and tepid 
anodyne fomentations were also applied to those parts nearest 
the seat of his pain — yet were his sufferings during tlie whole of 
the day almost intolerable. 

I had not the shadow of a hope of his recovery, and Dr. Post, 
whom I requested might be sent for immediately on our reaching 
Mr. Bayard's house, united with me in this opinion. General 
Rey, the French consul, also had the goodness to invite the sur- 
geons of the French frigate in our harbor, as they had much expe- 
rience in gun-shot wounds, to render their assistance. They im- 
mediately came; but to prevent his being disturbed, I stated to 
them his situation, described the nature of his wound, and the di- 
rection of the ball, with all the symptoms that could enable them 
to form an opinion as to the event. One of the gentlemen then 
accompanied me to the bedside. The result was, a confirmation 
of the opinion that had already been e.xpressed by Dr. Post and 
myself. 

During the night he had some imperfect sleep; but the succeed- 
ing morning his symptoms were aggravated, attended however 
with a diminution of pain. His mind retained all its usual strength 
and composure. The great source of his anxiety seemed to be in 
his sympathy with his half-distracted wife and children. He spoke 
to me frequently of them — 'My beloved wife and children,' were 
always his expressions. But his fortitude triumphed over his situ- 
ation, dreadful as it was. Once, indeed, at the sight of his chil- 
dren brought to his bedside together, seven in number, his utter- 
ance forsook him : he opened his eyes, gave them one look, and 
closed them again, till they were taken away. As a proof of his 
extraordinary composure of mind, let me add, that he alone could 
calm the frantic grief of their mother. 'Remember, my Eliza, 



AtEXAKDER HAMILTON. 595 

you are a christian,' were the expressions with which he fre- 
quently, with a firm voice, but in a pathetic and impressive man- 
ner, addressed her. His words, and the tone in which they were 

uttered, will never be effaced from my memory. At about two 

o'clock, as the public well know, he expired. 

It is painful to reflect, that such a valuable and highly gifted 
man should come to such an end. He fell a victim to the base 
and bitter feelings of revenge, proudly and falsely assuming the 
name of honor. How humiliating, too, that a man of the talents 
and standing of Hamilton, high in the confidence and esteem of 
his countrymen, and surrounded by the sweets of domestic life, 
should have yielded himself a sacrifice to an unlawful and bar- 
barous custom, which, although it plunged his family into the 
deepest affliction, could afford no plea of right, or policy, or pa- 
triotism, in its justification. 

General Hamilton had exercised the common privilege of the 
free citizens of our republic, in expressing openly his decided 
and honest opinions of the public character of a public man. He 
believed that he had sufficient grounds for distrusting the integrity 
of colonel Buit; and, as a good citizen, it was his duty to oppose 
his elevation to public stations. The community has long since 
been convinced that Hamilton was correct in his opinion of Burr. 
For judging accurately and speaking independently, Burr took 
his life. Let the fall of Hamilton serve to confirm the growing 
abhorrence of the practice of duelling. And let the man, and 
every man, who thus sheds the blood of a fellow citizen, be con- 
.■signed by public opinion, and by public indignation, to an infamous 
3talion amonsf monsters and assassins, 



5% BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



LIFE AND CHARACTER OF BENEDICT ARNOLD, 

TOGETHER WITH THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE CAPTURE, TRIAL, 
AND EXECUTION, OF MAJOR ANDRE. 

One of the most remarkable facts connected with the history of 
llie American revolution, was the steady adherence to their coun- 
try's interests manifested by all those whom she entrusted with 
important stations. Neither fear, nor the temptations of wealth? 
nor the love of honor and distinction, could induce them to betray 
the cause of their country into the hands of a foreign power. — 
All were tampered with at different times, and all as firmly and 
nobly resisted. "/ am poor, very poor,'''' exclaimed one of these 
incorruptible patriots in answer to the splendid offers of a British 
agent, "6m< the king of Great Britain is not rich enough to hvy 
wie." This was the noble sentiment which actuated them all. — 
From Washington down to the private soldier in the army — from 
Hancock through all the members of the old congress, "one spirit 
in them breathed :" and that was an ardent love of country and 
an unconquerable determination to achieve its independence or 
perish. During the gloomiest scenes of the war, and even while 
Washington was making his disastrous retreat through the Jerseys, 
and the enemy were in possession of Philadelphia, no one thought 
of deserting that sacred cause to which they had pledged their 
'■^lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.'''' 

To this statement there is only one memorable exception, and 
that is found in the person of him whose life and character is given 
in the following pages. 

Benedict Arnold, a major-general in the American army dur- 
ing the I'evolutionary war, was early chosen captain of a volun- 
teer company, in New-Haven, Connecticut, where he lived. Af- 
ter hearing of the battle of Lexington, he immediately marched 
with his company for the American head-quarters, and reached 
Cambridge, April 29, 1775. 

"He immediately waited on the Massachusetts committee of 
safety, and informed them of the defenceless state of Ticondero- 
ga. The committee appointed him a colonel, and commissioned 
him to raise four hundred men, and to take that fortress. He pro- 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 597 

ceedcd directly to Vermont, and when he arrived at Castleton, 
was attended by one servant only. Here he joined colonel Allen, 
and on the tenth of May, the fortress was taken. 

"In the fall of 1775, he was sent by the commander-in-chief to 
penetrate through the wilderness of the district of Maine, into 
Canada. On the 16th of September, he commenced his march, 
with about one thousand men, consisting of New-England infan- 
try, some volunteers, a company of artillery, and three companies 
of riflemen. One "division was obliged to return, or it would have 
perished by hunger. After sustaining almost incredible hard- 
ships, he in six weeks arrived at Point Levi, opposite to Quebec. 
The appearance of an army emerging from the wilderness, threw 
the city into the greatest consternation. In this moment of sur- 
prise, Arnold might probably have become master of the place; 
but the small crafts and boats in the river were removed out of his 
reach. 

"It seems that his approach was not altogether unexpected. — 
He had, imprudently, a number of days before, sent forward a 
letter to a friend by an Indian, who betrayed him. A delay of 
several days, on account of the difficulty of passing the river, 
was inevitable ; and the critical moment was lost. 

"On the 14th of November he crossed the St. Lawrence in the 
night ; and ascending the precipice which Wolfe had climbed be- 
fore him jformed his small corps op the height near the memorable 
Plains of Abraham. With only about seven hundred men, one- 
third of whose muskets had been rendered useless in their march 
through the wilderness, success could not be expected. After 
parading some days on the heights near the town, and sending two 
flags to sunmion the inhabitants, he retired to Point-aux- Trembles, 
twenty miles above Quebec, and there awaited the arrival of 
Montgomery, who joined him on the 1st of December. The city 
was immediately besieged, but the best measures had been taken 
for its defence. On the morning o{ the last day of the year, an 
assault was made on the one side of the city by Montgomery, who 
was killed. At the same time, colonel Arnold, at the head of three 
hundred and fifty men, made a desperate attack on the opposite 
side. Advancing with the utmost intrepidity along the St. Charles, 
through a nan-ow path, exposed to an incessant fire of grape-shot 
51* 



598 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

and musketry, as he approached the first barrier, he received a 
musket-ball in the leg, which shattered the bone ; and he was 
carried off to the camp. Though the attack was unsuccessful, the 
blockade of Quebec was continued till May, 1776 ; when the ar 
my, which was in no condition to risk an assault, was removed to 
a more defensible position. Arnold was compelled to relinquish 
one post after another, till the 18th of June, when he quitted 
Canada. After this period he exhibited great bravery in the com- 
mand of the American fleet on Lake Champlain. 

"In August, 1777, he relieved Fort Schuyler, under the com- 
mand of colonel Gansevoort, which was invested by colonel St. 
Leger, with an army of from fifteen to eighteen hundred men. — 
In the battle near Stillwater, September the 19th, he conducted 
himself with his usual intrepidity, being engaged incessantly for 
four hours. In the action of October the 7th, after the British had 
been driven into their lines, Arnold pressed forward, and, under a 
tremendous fire, assaulted the works throughout their whole ex- 
tent, from right to left. The entrenchments were at length forced, 
and with a few men he actually entered the works; but his horse 
being killed, and himself badly wounded in the leg, he found it 
necessary to withdraw, and as it was now almost dark, to desist 
from the attack. 

"Being rendered unfit for active service, in consequence of his 
wound, after the recovery of Philadelphia, he was appointed to 
the command of the American garrison. When he entered the 
city, he made the house of governor Penn, the best house in the 
city, his head-quarters. This he fiirnished in a very costly man- 
ner, and lived far beyond his income. One of the many and of- 
ten-trodden paths which are on "the broad way that leadeth to 
destruction," is called the /)a^A of pleasure; its allurements are 
gay and powerful, and whoever enters that path, either in youth 
or manhood, loses his moral courage, and submits his mind to 
giddy deceptions; so that it would be a vain boast to call himself a 
freeman. 

Arnold, who had toiled through dangers, and fought for liberty, 
with bravery and ardor, entered that delusive path, and soon be- 
came the slave of its weakening influence. While his former com- 
panions in the field of battle were persevering courageously in 



BENEDICT AR?COLD. 59?> 

the defence of their country, and suffering from the want of food 
and clothing, he was engaged in mirthful revelries, and was wast- 
ing a fortune in the gratification of idle vanity. He became in- 
volved in debt; and then dishonestly used every means within his 
power, to get possession of the property of others. His ill con- 
duct was at length made known to congress, and they appointed a 
court of officers of the army to examine the charges brought 
against him. 

"From the judgment of commissioners who had been appointed 
to inspect his accounts, and who had rejected above half the 
amount of his demands, he appealed to congress, and they ap- 
pointed a committee of their own body to examine and settle the 
business. The committee confirmed the report of the commis- 
sioners, and thought they had allowed him more than he had any 
right to expect or demaiid. By these disappointments he became 
irritated, and he gave full scope to his resentment. His invec- 
tives against congress were not less violent than those which he 
had before thrown out against the commissioners. He was, how- 
ever, soon obliged to abide the judgment of a court-martial, upon 
the charges exhibited against him hy the executive of Pennsyl- 
vania; and he was subjected to the mortification of receiving a 
reprimand from Washington. His trial commenced in June, 1778, 
but such were the delays, occasioned by the movements of the 
army, that it was not concluded until the 26th of January, 1779. 
The sentence of a reprimand was approved by congress, and was 
soon afterwards carried into execution. 

"Such was the humiliation to which general Arnold was re- 
duced, in consequence of yielding to the temptations of pride and 
vanity, and indulging himself in the pleasures of a sumptuous ta- 
ble and expensive equipage. 

"From this time, probably, his proud spirit revolted from the 
cause of America. He turned his eyes to West Point as an ac- 
quisition which would give value to treason, while its loss would 
inflict a mortal wound on his former friends. He addressed him- 
self to the delegation of New- York, in which state his reputation 
was peculiarly high ; and a member of congress from this state re- 
commended him to Washington for the service which he desired. — 
But this request could not be immediately complied with. The 



600 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

same application to the commander-in-chief was made not long 
afterwards through general Schuyler. Washington observed, that 
as there was a prospect of an active campaign, he should be gra- 
tified with the aid of general Arnold in the field; but intimated, at 
the same time, that he should receive the appointment requested, 
if it should be more pleasing to him. 

"Arnold, without discovering much solicitude, repaired to camp 
in the beginning of August, and renewed in person, the solicita - 
tions which had been before indirectly made. He was now oflfer- 
edthe command of the left, wing of the army, which was advanc- 
ing against New York; but he declined it, under the pretext that, 
in consequence of his wounds, he was unable to perforiu the ac- 
tive duties of the field. Without a suspicion of his patriotism, he 
was invested with the command of West Point. Previously to 
his solicitinsf this station, he had, in a letter to colonel Robinson, 
signified his change of principles, and his wish to restore himself 
to the favor of his prince, by some signal proof of his repentance. 
This letter opened him a correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, 
the object of which was to concert the means of putting the im- 
portant post which he cofnmanded into the possession of the British 
general. 

The well-known object of Arnold's negotiation was to put Clin- 
ton in possession of the post at West Point. This is a beautiful 
little plain, lying on the west bank of the Hudson, a little below 
where it breaks through the chain of mountains called the High- 
lands. Its form is nearly circular; in one half of its circumference 
defended by a precipice of great height, rising abruptly from the 
river; and on the other, by a chain of rugged, impassable moun- 
tains. It is accessible by one pass only from the river, and that is 
narrow and easily defended ; while, on the land sid^, it can be ap- 
proached only at two points, by roads that wind through the moun- 
tains, and enter it at the river bank, on the north and south. 

Great importance had always been attached to this post by the 
Americans, and great labor and expense bestowed upon fortifying 
it; whether judiciously, or to good effect, has never been tested. 
But the place is naturally, scarcely assailable, very healthy, and 
commands the river, throughout a long circuit that it stretches 
round the point, and where it is deep and very narrow. 



BENEDICT AENOLD. 601 

"His plan, it is believed, was to have drawn the greater part of 
his army without the works, under the pretext of fighting the ene- 
my in the defiles, and to have left unguarded a designated pass, 
through which the assailants might securely approach and surprise 
the fortress. His troops he intended to place so that they would 
be compelled to surrender' or be cut in pieces. But just as his 
scheme was ripe for execution, the wise Disposer of events, who 
so often and so remarkably interposed in favor of the American 
cause, blasted his designs. 

When he went to West Point, he wrote to Sir Henry that he 
would manage the troops stationed there, so that he mif^ht, on at- 
tacking them, readily make them his prisoners, or else entirely 
destroy them. The English general must have despised and dis- 
trusted the traitor, and he ought to have scorned the proposal of 
using such cowardly means for subduing the Americans ; but to 
get possession of West Point was so desirable, that he gladly re- 
ceived the base offer, and said that he would appoint an officer to 
correspond with Arnold on the subject. 

The officer chosen for this degrading duty was major Andre. — 
He was young, and had been expensively educated, and was ad- 
mired for the attainments of his mind, and his disposition was so 
frank and amiable, that he was esteemed by all who became ac- 
quainted with him. As an officer he was brave and faithful, and 
was a favorite in the army. His friends were strongly and tenderly 
attached to him, and felt a perfect confidence in the strength of his 
virtuous principles. But the foundation of those principles was a 
wrong one; they were placed on the duty which he owed to men, 
and not on that which he owed to God. When Sir Henry Clinton 
informed him of the employment he intended to give him, he con- 
sented to take a part in deception and treachery, and by doing so, 
lost his claim to integrity of mind. 

Several letters passed between Arnold and Andre, signed by 
the names of Gustavus and Anderson ; but the plan of treason 
could not be safely understood without some conversation on the 
subject, and Arnold sent a pass, or written permission, for Andre 
to go in the character of a person on business, past the guard at 
West Point, to a house near to the out-post, where he promised to 
meet him; in the pass, he was called John Anderson. 



602 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

An English sloop of war, named the Vulture, was sent up the 
Hudson to take Andre as near to West Point as possible, without 
the risk of exciting suspicion. He was rowed in a small boat to 
the shore, and arrived in safety at the place appointed by Arnold, 
in September. Night was chosen to veil from human eyes the 
plottings of treachery; but an "All-seeing eye," to which the 
^'darkness is as the noon-day," rested on the deluded and erring 
Andre. And a power, from which no human strength or wisdom 
can deliver, was preparing a dreadful punishment for his wander- 
ings from the path of virtue. 

The night was spent in deeply interesting conversation, and the 
morning dawned before all the parts of the dark plot were well 
understood. Andre could not return to the vessel by the light of 
day with any hope of safety; and Arnold assured him that he 
would conceal him until night, and for this purpose took him within 
the posts, and remained with him all day. The Vulture had been 
noticed from the fort, and fired on, and the commander thought it 
necessary to move to a greater distance from the river. 

When daylight had again faded from the sky, and the hour of 
darkness had come, for which no doubt Andre had anxiously 
watched, he left his place of concealment, and expected to be 
quickly conveyed to the vessel from which he had come the night 
before; but it was removed to so great a distance, that he could 
not prevail on any boatman to take him to it, and Arnold did not 
dare to aid him in persuading them. 

Sadly perplexed, Andre was obliged at length to determine on 
passing to New York by land. This was a perilous attempt; for 
parties of militia were employed in watching all the roads leading 
from the Highlands to that city. Arnold insisted on his changing 
his dress for a plain one, and wrote a pass for him, desiring the 
guards and militia to "permit John Anderson to go to the White 
Plains, on business of great importance." 

It is very well known, that major Andre was taken near a place 
called Tarry Town, on the east side of the Hudson, where it 
forms Haverstraw Bay. Ten years afterwards, the large s}'ca- 
more near which he was taken, was shown to the traveller; and 
the incidents at his capture were familiarly known to, and related 
by every inhabitant in the village. Paulding, Williams, and Vap. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 603 

Wert, who captured him, were poor, but reputable men, and ex- 
hibited a striking instance of disinterestedness and fidelity. Andre 
offered them large bribes, but they were not to be corrupted, and 
conducted him a prisoner to colonel Jamieson, who commanded a 
scouting party on that side of the river. 

The circumstances attending the capture of Andre are differ- 
ently related by the different authors who have written on the 
American war. They are all correct as far as they go ; but being 
deficient in a few particulars, excited surprise at the supposed want 
of self-possession in so brave a man as Andre. 

The British army in New York was at that time supplied with 
beef, principally through the aid of a class of men, who obtained 
the appellation of Cowboys. They M'ere a species of settlers, or 
dealers in live stock, who being well acquainted with the roads 
and passes, penetrated into the country, and either stole or pur- 
chased cattle, which they secretly drove into the enemy-s lines. — 
Besides watching the movements of the enemy, one principal ob- 
ject for detaching Jamieson to that quarter was, to check the pro- 
secution of this trade or practice. For this purpose, small scouting 
parties were occasionally pushed beyond the American posts, to 
reconnoitre the interjacent country between their posts and those 
of the enemy. And as the cattle taken from the Cowboys, unless 
stolen, were held to be the prize of war; and it was an object 
with the well affected to suppress a practice which exposed their 
stock to depredations, small volunteer parties occasionally way- 
laid the roads for that purpose. Of this description were the cap- 
tors of Andre J who, after the fatigue of prosecuting their enter- 
prise, had seated themselves under this tree, in a situation retired 
from the view of travellers approaching along the road. It is 
said that they were engaged in a game at cards, when the tread of 
Andre's horse attracted their notice. 

The station they had taken, was in view of a point where sev- 
eral roads unite near the village, and Andre, who was visible to 
the party before they were visible to him, was engaged in exa- 
mining a sketch of the route, no doubt to determine which of the 
roads in his view he ought to follow. At the first rustling of the 
leaves, made by the motion of the party in ambush, he precipi- 
tately thrust the paper he had been examining into his boot, on 



604 BENEDICT ARXOLD. 

the opposite side of his horse from that on which the party ap- 
peared. This was noticed by one of the party, and led to the 
examination which produced the detection. 

On being stopped, he resumed his composure, and exhibited the 
pass from Arnold, on which he had thus far succeeded in clearing 
the American posts and patrols ; and the party had already released 
Ids bridle, when one of them inquired what he had done with the 
paper he was reading. An indistinct view of the dangerous dilem- 
ma in which the question involved him, produced in Andre a mo- 
mentary hesitation : his embarrassment was noticed by the party, 
and made them resolve again to detain him. Knowing that the 
pass from Arnold would not avail him after the discovery of the 
contents of his boot, Andre then desired them to tell him truly, 
whether they were from above or below; and on their answering 
Hhe latter,' which was consistent with the truth in fact, though not 
in the sense he meant it, which was, whether they were whigs or 
lories, he acknowledged himself to be a British officer on urgent 
business, and begged them not to detain him. On their persisting 
to detain him, the whole extent of his danger burst upon him, and 
he liberally tried the persuasive voice of gold. But though he 
had just witnessed, that one in a much more elevated rank had 
lent a propitious ear to similar arguments, he found these honest 
yeomen were not to be corrupted. Until then, he had not learned 
that it is at last in the integrity of the well-informed yeomanry of 
a country, that the strength and security of a free government is 
to be found. Woe to that government which ever suffers this class 
of men to remain in ignorance, or be exposed to corruption ! 
Upon searching the boot in which the paper had been thrust, a 
, plan of West Point, the strength and disposition of the garrison, 
and other suspicious papers, were discovered ; and Andre was 
immediately conveyed to the head-quarters of colonel Jamieson. 
By this time, it appears that Andre had completely recovered his 
self-possession, if, indeed, he had ever lost it; and he had the in- 
genuity to play off on Jamieson a nisse de guerre, to which the 
partiality of his friends, and the feelings of his admirers, have 
managed to give a character which it by no means merits. 

He prevailed on Jamieson to despatch a note to Arnold, in- 
forming him that John Anderson (this was Andre's assumed name) 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 605 

was taken, This has been construed into a magnanimous effort 
to save Arnold; whereas it was obviously an ingenious artifice to 
save himself. And it must have succeeded, had not the former, 
instead of taking the hint as it was intended, verified by his con- 
duct the trite adage, 'there is no faith among the dishonest,' by 
immediately transferring all his attention to his own escape. — 
Arnold could easily have despatched an order to Jamieson to re- 
lease Andre, or have adopted some fiction or plan for getting him 
into his own hands, for the purpose of giving him his liberty, and 
then have escaped with him. Jamieson obviously entertained no 
suspicion of Ai-nold, by sending him this message ; and from the 
time that elapsed before he forwarded to general Washington the 
papers found upon Andre, it is clear that he waited for some 
communication from Arnold, with regard to the future disposal of 
John Anderson. 

While these things were taking place at New-York and West 
Point, Washington was absent on a journey to Hartford, Connec- 
ticut, on the following occasion; 

About the middle of September, the commander-in-chief, at- 
tended by generals Lafayette and Knox, with a splendid retinue, 
left the American camp in New Jersey, and proceeded to Hart- 
ford, in Connecticut, for the purpose of holding a conference with 
the commanding officers of the French fleet and army, which had 
lately arrived at Rhode Island. In the mean time, the command 
of the x\merican army devolved on major-general Greene, whose 
head quarters were at Tappan. 

A week had elaped since the departure of Washington, and no 
incident of importance had occurred. Greene had learned, through 
the medium of his spies, that some secret expedition was on foot, 
at the city of New York : but of its nature and direction, he could 
not obtain the smallest hint. On the ninth day, however, at three 
o'clock in the morning, an alarm was spread thi-ough the Ameri- 
can camp; and in a few minutes, all were under arms. A de- 
tachment, consisting of two regiments, was immediately ordered 
to march to West Point, with all possible expedition; and the rest 
of the troops were directed to hold themselves in readiness to 
piarch at a moment's warning. Arnold received Andre's letter 
52 



1 



006 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

about ten o'clock in the morning, while at breakfast. Two of 
Washington's aids, major Shaw and Dr. M'Henry, had just ar- 
rived, and were at breakfast at Arnold's table. His confusion 
was visible, but no one could divine the cause. 

Struck with the pressing danger of his situation, momentarily 
expecting Washington's return from Hartford, the traitor called 
instantly for a horse. 

"A horse!" exclaimed he, as he started from the table. "Any 
one — 'even if a wagon horse !" 

He then bade a hasty adieu to his wife, and enjoined a positive 
order on the messenger not to inform any one that he was the 
bearer of a letter from colonel Jamieson : he repaired to his barge, 
and ordered the coxswain, with eight oarsmen, to proceed down 
the river, to the sloop of war Vulture, which he reached in safety, 
under the protection of a flag, and which immediately set sail for 
New York. 

Washington arrived at Arnold's quarters in two hours after the 
traitor had escaped. Not finding Arnold at home, and being in- 
formed that he had gone to West Point, Washington passed over 
the river to view the works at that post; but not finding Arnold, 
he returned, in the hope of meeting him at his quarters. But 
here he was again disappointed, for no person could account for 
his absence. 

Mrs. Arnold was now in her chamber, in great agitation and 
distress, deprived of her reason, and Dr. Eustis in attendance. — 
At a lucid interval, she requested to see Washington; but at the 
time he reached the chamber her distraction returned, and she 
knew him not. He then withdrew, and repairing to the dining 
room, sat down to dinner, but rose soon again with apparent agita- 
tion, He then took colonel Lamb aside, and expressed to him his 
suspicion that Arnold had deserted to the enemy. In less than 
two hours it was ascertained that the conjecture vv^as too well 
founded ; for a despatch arrived from colonel Jamieson, with an 
account of the capture of Andre, accompanied by his own letter 
of confession. The prisoner was conducted to West Point, and 
from thence to head quarters at Tappan, where preparations were 
made for his trial by a court-martial, 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 607 

Andre disdained defence and prevented the examination of wit- 
nesses, by confessing the character in which he stood. He was 
consequently declared to be a spy, and condemned to suffer ac- 
cordingly. 

Washington approved the sentence, and ordered his execution 
to take place on the first day of October, at five o'clock in the af- 
ternoon. In this decision he was warranted by the still exisiting 
implication of other ofiicers in Arnold's conspiracy; by a due re- 
gard to public opinion ; and by real tenderness to the prisoner 
himself. 

On the first day of October, at the hour appointed, a large con- 
course of people assembled to witness the execution of the gal- 
lant and unfortunate young officer. The gallows was erected, 
and the grave and coffin prepared ; but a flag of truce arrived with 
a communication from Sir Henry Clinton, making another and 
further proposal for the release of major Andre; in consequence 
of which the execution was postponed until twelve o'clock on the 
following day. 

This flag was accompanied by the British general Robertson, 
with Andrew Elliott and William Smith, esquires, for the purpose 
of pleading for the release of major Andre, the royal army being 
in the greatest affliction on the occasion. 

But all intercession was fruitless ; and least of all availed a let- 
ter to Washington, of which Robertson was the bearer, from the 
traitor Arnold, filled with threats of retaliation, and the accounta- 
bility of Washington for the torrents of blood that might be spilt, 
if he should order the execution of Andre ! It is diflficult to say 
which created the most astonishment in the breast of Greene — 
that Arnold should have the consummate effrontery, to write such a 
letter ; or that Robertson should consent to be the bearer of it. 

Nothing, of course, was effected by this interview, and the mes- 
sengers returned in despondency to New-York. Andre, in the 
mean time, during his confinement, trial and condemnation, evinced 
a composure and dignity of mind, that enlisted the sympathies of 
all in his favor. Not a murmur escaped him ; while the civilities 
and attentions bestowed on him, were gratefully and politely ac- 



608 BENEDICT ABWOLD. 

knowledged. Having left a mother and two sisters in England? 
he was heard to mention them in terms of the tenderest affection; 
and in his letter to sir Henry Clinton, he recommended them to 
his particular attention. 

We are assured that, though every one acknowledged the policy 
of the sentence, there was scarcely one that spoke of his approach- 
ing fate without evincing the deepest emotions of sympathy. The 
principal guard officer, who was constantly in the room with An- 
dre, states that when the fatal hour arrived, and the prisoner was 
summoned to attend, he heard and complied without any visible 
emotion ; and while all present were more or less affected, he re- 
tained a serene countenance, with calmness and composure of 
mind. , ' 

The prisoner walked from the stone house in which he had been 
confined, between two subaltern officers, arm in arm, A large 
detachment of troops was paraded, and an immense concourse of 
people assembled, to witness the awful ceremony. We will give 
the remaining particulars in the language of Dr. Thacher. 

"During the solemn march to the fatal spot," says the doctor^ 
"I was so near as to observe every movement, and participate in 
every emotion, which the melancholy scene was calculated to 
produce. The eyes of the immense multitude were fixed on the 
prisoner; who, rising superior to the fears of death, appeared as 
if conscious of the dignified deportment which he displayed. He 
betrayed no want of fortitude, but retained a complaisant smile 
on his countenance, and politely bowed to several gentlemen whom 
he knew, which was respectfully returned. 

"It was his earnest desire to be shot, as being the mode ofdeath 
most conformable to the feelings of a military man, and he in- 
dulged the hope that his request would be granted. At the mo- 
ment, therefore, when suddenly he came in view of the gallows, 
he involuntarily started backward, and made a pause. 'Why this 
emotion, sir?' said an officer at his side. Instantly recovering 
his composure, he said — 'I am reconciled to my death; but I de- 
test the mode.' 

"While waiting, and standing near the gallows," continues Dr. 
Thacher, "I observed some degree of trepidation: placing his foot 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 609 

on a stone, and rolling it over, and choking in his throat, as if at- 
tempting to swallow. So soon, however, as he perceived that 
things were in readiness, he stepped quickly into the wagon ; and 
at this moment he appeared to shrink ; but instantly elevating his 
head with hrmness, he said, 'It will be but a momentary pang;' 
and taking from his pocket two white handkerchiefs, the provost 
marshal, with one loosely pinioned his arms ; and with the other, 
the victim, after taking off his hat and stock, bandaged his own 
eyes, with perfect firmness, which melted the hearts and moistened 
the cheeks, not only of his servant, but of the throng of specta- 
tors. 

"The rope being appended to the gallows, he slipped the noose 
over his own head, adjusted it to his neck, without the assistance 
of the awkward executioner. Colonel Scanimel now informed 
him that he had an opportunity to speak if he desired it. He 
raised the handkerchief from his eyes and said — 'I pray you to 
bear witness that I meet my fate like a brave man.' The wagon 
being now removed from under him, he was suspended, and in- 
stantly expired. It proved, indeed, 'but a momentary pang.' 

"He was dressed in his royal regimentals and boots ; and his re- 
mains, in the same dress, were placed in an ordinary coffin, and 
interred at the foot of the gallows; and the spot was consecrated 
by the tears of thousands." 

Arnold on the very day of his escape, wrote the following let- 
tor to Washington : 

^^On board the Vulture, 
Sept. 25, 1780. 

"Sir — The heart which is conscious of its own rectitude can- 
not attempt to palliate a step which the world may censure as 
wrong; I have ever acted from a principle of love to my country, 
since the commencement of the present unhappy contest between 
Great Britain and the colonies ; the same principle of love to my 
country actuates my present conduct, however it may appear in- 
consistent to the world, who very seldom judge right of any man's 
actions. 

"I have no favor to ask for myself. I have too often experienced 
the ingratitude of ray country to attempt it; but from the known. 
52* 



610 BENEDICT AHNOLD. 

humanity of your excellency, I am induced to ask your protectioiis 
for Mrs. Arnold from every insult or injury the mistaken ven- 
geance of my country may expose her to. It ought to fall only or* 
me ; she is as good and as innocent as an angel, and is incapable 
of doing wrong. I beg she may be permitted to return to her 
friends in Philadelphia, or to come to me, as she may choose ; from 
your excellency I have no fears on her account, but she may suf- 
fer from the mistaken fury of the country. 

"I have to request that the enclosed letter may be delivered to 
Mrs. Arnold, and she permitted to write to me. 

"J have also to ask that my clothes and baggage, which arc of 
little consequence, may be sent tome; if required, their value 
shall be paid in money. 

"I have the honor to be, &c. 

"BENEDICT ARNOLD 
"His excellency, general Washington. 

"N. B. In justice to the gentlemen of n>y family, colonel Vir-^ 
rack and major Franks, I think myself in honor bound to declare 
that they, as well as Joshua Smith, Esq. (who I know are suspected,) 
are totally ignorant of any transactions of mine, which they have 
reason to believe were injurious to the public." 

Mrs. Arnold was conveyed to her husband at New York, and 
his clothes and baggage, for which he had written, were transmit- 
ted to him. 

"The following is a concise_description of the figures exhibited 
and paraded through the streets of the city of Philadelphia, two or 
three days after the affair : 

"A stage raised on the body of a cart, on which was an effigy of 
general Arnold sitting; this was dressed in regimentals, had two 
faces, emblematical of his traitorous conduct, a mask in his left 
hand, and a letter in his right from Belzebub, telling him that he 
had done all the mischief he could do, and now might hang him- 
self 

"At the back of the general was a figure of the devil, dressed 
in black robes, shaking a purse of money at the general's left ear, 
and in his right hand a pitch-fork, ready to drive him into hell, as 



BENEDICT AHNOLD. 611 

the rew ard due for the many crimes \vhich his thirst for gold had 
made him conjmit. 

"In front of the stage, and before general Arnold, was placed a 
large lantern of transparent paper, with the consequences of his 
crimes thus delineated, i. e., on one part general Arnold on his 
knees before the devil, who is pulling him into the flames — a label 
from the general's mouth with these words : 'My dear sir, I have 
served you faithfully ;' to which the devil replies, 'And I will re- 
ward you.' On another side, two figures hanging, inscribed 'The 
Traitor's reward,' and wrote underneath, 'The adjutant-general 
of the British army, and Joe Smith ; the first hanged as a spy, and 
the other as a traitor to his country.' And on the front of the lan- 
tern was wrote the following : 

'Major-general Benedict Arnold,- late commander of the fort 
West Point. The crime of this man is high treason. 

'He has deserted the important post. West Point, on Hudson's 
river, committed to his charge by his excellency, the commander- 
in-chief, and is gone off to the enemy at New York. 

'His design to have given up this fortress to our enemies has 
been discovered by the goodness of the Omniscient Creator, who 
has ndt only prevented him from carrying it into execution, but 
has thrown into our hands Andre, the adjutant-general of their 
army, who was detected in the infamous character of a spy, 

'The treachery of the ungrateful general is held up to public 
view for the exposition of infamy; and to proclaim with joyful ac- 
clamation another instance of the interposition of a bounteous 
Providence. 

'The effigy of this ingrate is therefore hanged, (for want of his 
body,) as a traitor to his native country, and a betrayer of the 
laws of honor.' 

"The procession began about 4 o'clock in the following order: 
"Several gentlemen mounted on horseback. 
"A line of continental officers. 
"Sundry gentlemen in a lino. 
"A guard of the city infantry. 
"Just before the cart, drums and fifes playing the 
"Rogues march. 
"Guards on each side. 



612 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

"The procession was attended with a numerous concourse of 
people, who, after expressing their abhorrence of the treason and 
the traitor, committed him to the flames, and left both the effigy 
and the original to sink into ashes and oblivion." 

^'Arnold was made a brigadier-general in the British service ; 
which rank he preserved throughout the war. Yet he must have 
been held in contempt and detestation by the generous and honora- 
ble. It was impossible for men of this description, even when 
acting with him, to forget that he was a traitor, first the slave of 
his rage, then purchased with gold, and finally secured by the blood 
of one of the most accomplished officers in the British army. One 
would suppose that his mind could not have been much at ease ; 
but he had proceeded so far in vice, that perhaps his reflections 
gave him but little trouble. 'I am mistaken,' says Washington, in 
a private letter, 'if at this time, Arnold is undergoing the torments 
of a mental hell. He wants feeling. From some traits of his 
character which have lately come to my knowledge, he seems to 
have been so hackneyed in crime, so lost to all sense of honor and 
shame, that while his faculties still enable him to continue his 
sordid pursuits, there will be no time for remorse.' 

"Arnold found it necessary to make some exertions to secure 
the attachment of his new friends. With the hope of alluring 
many of the discontented to his standard, he published an address 
to the inhabitants of America, in which he endeavoured to justify 
his conduct. He had encountered the dangers of the field he said, 
from an apprehension that the rights of his country were in danger. 
He had acquiesced in the declaration of independence, though he 
thought it precipitate. But the rejection of the overtures made by 
Great Britain, in 1778, and the French alliance, had opened his 
eyes to the ambitious views of those who would sacrifice the hap- 
piness of their country to their own aggrandizement, and had 
made him a confirmed royalist. He artfully mingled assertions 
that the principal members of congress held the people in sover- 
eign contempt. 

"This was followed, in about a fortnight, by a proclamation, ad- 
dressed 'to the officers and soldiers of the continental army, who 
have the real interests of their country at heart, and who are de- 



BENEDICT ARNOLD, 613 

termincd to be no longer the tools and dupes of congress, or of 
France.' To induce the American officers and soldiers to desert 
the cause which they had embraced, he represented that the corps 
of cavalry and infantry which he was authorized to raise, would 
be upon the same footing with the other troops in the British ser- 
vice ; that he should with pleasure advance those whose valor he 
had witnessed ; and that the private men who joined him should 
receive a bounty of three guineas each, besides payment, at full 
value, for horses, arms and accoutrements. His object was the 
peace, liberty and safety of America . 'You are promised liberty,' 
he exclaims, 'but is there an individual in the enjoyment cf it save 
your oppressors ? Who among you dare to speak or write what 
he thinks against the tyranny which has robbed you of your pro- 
perty, imprisons your persons, drags you to the field of battle, and 
is daily deluging your country with blood?' 'What,' he exclaims 
again, 'is America, but a land of widows, orphans, and beggars? 
As to you, who have been soldiers in the continental army, can 
you at this day want evidence that the funds of your country are 
exhausted, or that the managers have applied them to their private 
use? In either case you surely can no longer continue in their 
service m ith honor or advantage. Yet you have hitherto been their 
supporters in that cruelty which, with equal indifference to yours,, 
as well as to the labor and blood of others, is devouring a country 
that, from the moment you quit their colors, will be redeemed from 
their tyranny.' 

"These proclamations did not produce the effect designed ; and 
in all the hardships, sufferings and irritations of the war, Arnold 
remains the solitary instance of an American officer who aban- 
doned the side fii-st embraced in the contest, and turned his sword 
upon his former companions in arms. 

"He was soon despatched by sir Henry Clinton to make a di- 
version in Virginia. With about seventeen hundred men he ar- 
rived in the Chesapeake in January, 1781, and being supported 
bv such a naval force as was suited to the nature of the service, 
he committed extensive ravages on the rivers along the unprotected 
coasts. It is said that, while on this expedition, Arnold enquired 
of an American captain whom he had taken prisoner, what the 



614 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Americans would do with him if he should fall into their hands. — ■ 
The captain at first declined giving him an answer, but upon be- 
ing repeatedly urged to it, he said, 'Why, sir, if I must answer 
your question, you must excuse my telling you the plain truth: if 
my countrymen should catch you, I believe they would first cut 
off" that lame leg, which was wounded in the cause of freedom and 
virtue, and bury it with the honors of war, and afterwards hang 
the remainder of your body in gibbets.' The reader will recol- 
lect that the captain alluded to the wound Arnold received in one 
of his legs at the attack upon Quebec, in 1776." 

"The return of general Arnold to New-York from Virginia, did 
not fix him in a state of inactivity. He was sent on an enterprise 
against New-London, with a sufficient land and marine force. — 
The embarkation having passed over from Long Island shore in 
the night, the troops were landed in two detachments on each side 
of the harbor at ten o'clock in the morning of the 6th of Septem- 
ber; that on the Groton side being commanded by lieutenant-col- 
onel Eyre, and that on the New-London side by the general, who 
met with no great trouble. Fort Trumbull and the redoubts, which 
were intended to cover the harbor and town, not being tenable, 
were evacuated as he approached, and the few men in them 
crossed the river to Fort Griswold, on Groton-hill. Arnold pro- 
ceeded to the town without being otherwise opposed than by the 
scattered fire of small parties that had hastily collected. Orders 
were sent by the general to Eyre for attacking Fort Griswold, so 
that the possession of it might prevent the escape of the American 
shipping. The militia, to the amount of one hundred and fifty- 
seven, collected for its defence, but so hastily as not to be fully 
furnished with fire arms and other weapons. As the assailants 
approached, a firing commenced, and the flag-staff" was soon shot 
down, from whence the neighboring spectators inferred that the 
place had surrendered, till the continuance of the firing convinced 
them to the contrary. The garrison defended themselves with 
the greatest resolution and bravery ; Eyre was wounded near the 
works, and major Montgomery was killed immediately after, so 
that the command devolved on Major Bloomfield. The British at 
onetime staggered; but the fort being out of repair, could not be 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 615 

maintained by a handful of men against so superior a number as 
that which assaulted it. After an action of about forty minutes, 
the resolution of the royal troops carried the place by the point of 
the bayonet. The Americans had not more than half a dozen 
killed before the enemy entered the fort, when a severe execution 
took place, though resistance ceased. The British officer in- 
quired, on his entering the fort, who commanded ? colonel Led- 
yard answered— 'I did, sir, but you do now; and presented his 
sword. The colonel was immediately run through and killed. — 
The slain was seventy-three : the wounded between thirty and 
forty, and about fifty were carried off prisoners. Soon after re- 
ducing the fort, the soldiers loaded a wagon with the wounded, 
^ as said, by order of the officers, and set the wagon from the top 
of the hill, which is long and very steep ; the wagon went a con- 
siderable distance with great force, till it was suddenly stopped by 
an apple-tree, which gave the faint and bleeding men so terrible 
a shock that part of them died instantly. About fifteen vessels, 
with the effects of the inhabitants, retreated up the river, notwith- 
standing the reduction of the fort, and four others remained in the 
harbor unhurt ; a number were burnt by the fire's communicating 
from the stores when in flames. Sixty dwelling houses and eigh- 
ty-four stores were burned, including those on both sides of the 
harbor and in New-London. The burning of the town was inten- 
tional, and not accidental. The loss that the Americans sus- 
tained in this destruction was very great; for there were large 
quantities of naval stores, of European goods, and East and West 
India commodities, and of provisions in the several stores. The 
British had two commissioned officers and forty-six privates killed ; 
eight officers (some of whom are since dead.) with one hundred 
and thirty-five non-commissioned and privates, wounded." 

"From the conclusion of the war to his death, general Arnold 
resided chiefly in England. He died in Gloucester-place, London, 
June 14, 180L His character presents little to be commended. 
His daring courage may indeed excite admiration; but it was a 
courage without reflection and without principle. He fought brave- 
ly for his country ; and he bled in her cause ; but his country owed 
him no return of gratitude, for his subsequent conduct proved that 



616 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

he had no honest regard to her interests, but was governed by 
selfish considerations. His progress fi-om self-indulgence to treason 
was easy and rapid. He was vain and luxurious ; and to gratify his 
giddy desires, he must resort to meanness, dishonesty, and extor- 
tion. These vices brought with them disgrace; and the contempt 
into which he fell awakened a spirit of revenge, and left him to 
she unrestrained influence of his cupidity and passion. Thus 
5,00, he furnislied new evidence of the infatuation of the human 
mind, in attaching such value to the reputation of a soldier, which 
maybe obtained while the heart is unsound, and every moral sen- 
•Jiment entirely depraved." 

FINIS, 



**' 



(Ti 



